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THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


BOOKS FOR GIRLS 
By AMY BELL MARLOWE 

izmo. Cloth. Illustrated. Price per volume, 
6o cents, postpaid. 

THE OLDEST OF FOUR 

Or Natalie’s Way Out 

THE GIRLS OF HILLCREST FARM 
Or The Secret of the Rocks 
A LITTLE MISS NOBODY 

Or W ith the Girls of Pinewood Hall 
THE GIRL FROM SUNSET RANCH 
Or Alone in a Great City 
WYN’S CAMPING DAYS 

Or The Outing of the Go-Ahead Club 

GROSSET & DUNLAP 

PUBLISHERS NEW YORK 



THE 

OLDEST OF FOUR 

OR 

NATALIE’S WAY OUT 

BY 

AMY BELL MARLOWE 

M 

AUTHOR OF 

THE GIRLS OF HILLCREST FARM, 

A LITTLE MISS NOBODY, ETC. 


Illustrated 


NEW YORK 

GROSSET & DUNLAP 

PUBLISHERS 




I 


Copyright, 1914, by 
GROSSET & DUNLAP 


The Oldest of Four 


JUL 16 1914 . 

©CI,A37CG8a 

^ f 


> 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER page 


I. 

,The Greatest Day of Her 



Life 

I 

II. 

The Captain .... 

II 

III. 

The Girl Who Grew Old 



Over Night .... 

19 

IV. 

‘‘A Survivor of the ‘Sakon- 



NET ’ ” 

29 

V. 

“ Women Must Work ” . 

38 

VI. 

Facing THE Future . 

48 

VII. 

The Despised Way . 

61 

VIII. 

Hope Fails . . . 

70 

IX. 

Trouble at the Store . 

77 

X. 

Under a Cloud 

88 

XL 

At the Pawnbroker’s . 

96 

XII. 

When Natalie Awoke in the 



Night 

104 

XIII. 

Luck in Two Pieces 

III 

XIV. 

Mr. Van Weir .... 

124 

XV. 

The Borrowed Chaperon 

135 


V 


vi 

CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 


PAGE 

XVI. 

Many Inventions . 

144 

XVII. 

The Unexpected Friend 

156 

XVIII. 

The Book is Launched . 

165 

XIX. 

The Man from New Orleans 

179 

XX. 

Is This Direct Evidence ? 

193 

XXL 

The Angel’s Gift . 

203 

XXII. 

Miss Jarrold’s Party 

214 

XXIII. 

The Man Who Told a Story 

225 

XXIV. 

Jim’s Birthday .... 

232 

XXV. 

“ It Serves Me Right ” . 

247 

XXVI. 

A Mystery .... 

256 

XXVII. 

Pete Darby “ Puts on the 



Soft Pedal . 

265 

XXVIII. 

In Boston 

277 

XXIX. 

Back from the Lost Land . 

289 

XXX. 

A Forecast .... 

296 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


CHAPTER I 

THE GREATEST DAY OF HER LIFE 

“Mummy-kins! Mummy-kins! My best 
shoe’s all busted out in the back. How can I go 
to Nat’s commencement with a burst shoe? Will 
you tell me that now? ” 

Laura Raymond’s voice rang like a trumpet call 
through the little cottage on Vesey Street. 

“ I noticed that there were two buttons off the 
same shoe, too, dear,” was the reply, in Mrs. Ray- 
mond’s quiet tones. “ Had you sewed the buttons 
on you would surely have seen the ‘ busted back,’ 
as you call it, in time to have taken the shoe to 
the cobbler.” 

“ I know, I know, Mummy-kins. Mea culpa! 

“ Less Latin and more buttons on your shoes, 
young lady,” exclaimed Natalie, coming from her 
own room, dressed, hatted, and with her new 
parasol in her hand, looking “ so sweet,” Laura 
declared, that the fly-away sister had to jump up 
from the top of the flight (she dressed all over the 
house in a most scandalous way and was button- 


2 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


ing her shoes on the stairs) and hug and kiss the 
heroine of the hour. 

Can you imagine any girl named Natalie who 
was not a brunette? And Natalie Raymond had 
the oval face, the blue-black hair, the deep, 
shaded, languid black eyes, the thin, finely-chiseled 
nose, and the darkling roses in the cheek, of the 
most satisfactory type of brunette. 

Natalie Raymond was not merely pretty; she 
radiated intelligence. When she was animated 
her eyes sparkled, and the color came and went in 
her cheeks with every breath. When she was in- 
dignant Laura called her an Italian brigand — a 
very “ lady-like ” one, of course! And when she 
was pensive, her father called her “ Madonna.’’ 

Natalie was a reminisceiKe of a former gen- 
eration of Raymonds. A hundred years back, a 
certain Raymond who was wealthy, traveling in 
Italy, had fallen in love with and married an 
Italian girl of a good but poverty-stricken family. 

Natalie’s beauty was of the type of that an- 
cestress, although the Raymonds themselves were 
fair, and inclined . to be stout — both men and 
women — when they were fully grown, with tawny 
hair and plenty of color. Laura was of the Ray- 
mond type. 

“ And I hate it,” the lively twelve-year-old often 
declared. “We Raymonds might be manufac- 


GREATEST DAY OF HER LIFE 3 

tured by the mile and cut off by the yard. But 
Natalie — well, nobody ever was quite like Natl ” 

And this was Natalie’s great day — as she said 
herself, it was the greatest day of her life. 

She was graduating at the head of her class 
from the Burlingboro High School, and was to 
deliver the valedictory. She was sixteen that very 
week and It did seem as though there was only one 
tiny cloud on her horizon. 

Her father, Frank Raymond, could not be home 
in time to see Natalie graduate. He had hoped 
to be back from a long southern business trip in 
good season for the great occasion. 

But three days before, instead of his appear- 
ance, as they had expected, in bodily form, had 
come a letter stating 4:hat he would have to remain 
in Havana until the sailing of the next steamer. 

He was on the way now, of course ; but he would 
land in New York too late for the run to Burling- 
boro by train in season to hear the oldest of his 
four daughters read the farewell of her class. 

“ If father could only be here,” sighed Natalie, 
when Laura kissed her at the top of the stair- 
flight, “ I should be perfectly, perfectly happy.” 

But mother was well enough to attend the ex- 
ercises, and Natalie was grateful for that bless- 
ing. For mother was not always strong enough 
to go out. Many days she lay on the couch in 


4 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


her own room, and the girls had to do the house- 
work and “ scramble together the eats,” as Laura 
said, as best they might. 

Of course. Rose was big enough to help now, 
for she was eight; but Lucille was but four, and — 
it must be confessed — a great deal more bother 
than she was help, to say the least. 

Now Mrs. Hackett would come through the 
hole in the fence from the rear alley and look 
out for the two youngsters while mother accom- 
panied Laura to see the oldest of the four receive 
her diploma. 

Natalie went first. She tripped along the side- 
walk in her immaculate white shoes, dodging the 
puddles left from last night’s rain. It had been a 
hard rain with a wind that howled around the 
house most miserably, and Natalie heard her 
mother moving restlessly in her bed. 

A wild night, and father on the sea ! She had 
known that the thought worried her mother. 

But the day had broken so beautifully, with 
the whole world washed so clean', that nobody had 
mentioned the tempest that had raged up the coast 
during the night. 

“’Lo, Natalie!” 

Natalie raised the edge of her parasol to see. 
A negro was wheeling the invalid chair out of the 
Hurleys’ grounds, and Jim was smiling broadly 


GREATEST DAY OF HER LIFE 5 

at her, with his ebony crutches held over his shoul- 
der like a gun. 

The Hurleys had beautiful grounds, their 
house sitting on a terraced embankment, with 
velvety lawns and lovely shrubbery. The place 
occupied a whole square at the most fashionable 
end of Vesey Street. 

“ How nice you look in your black suit, Jim,” 
said Natalie, walking beside the chair. 

“ Huh ! Just like a waiter,” grunted the crip- 
pled youth. “ If it wasn’t for my hydroplanes,” 
and he tapped the ebony crutches, “ they’d think 
I came to wait on table at the class supper to-night. 
That’ll be jolly, Nat! ” 

“ I reckon so,” said Natalie, happily. 

He was smiling up at her rather wistfully. 

“ How pretty you look, Nat. But, then, you 
always are pretty. Only you look sort of — of — 
transfigured to-day. I guess that’s the word I 
want,” and Jim laughed again. 

Natalie laughed, too. 

“ You really are getting on, Jim. Paying com- 
pliments to the girls, and all that. Why, you’ll 
be quite a lady’s man yet.” 

“ No,” said the boy, his usually cheerful face 
suddenly falling into graver lines. “ Never that. 
Girls won’t care much to look at a fellow like 


me. 


6 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


She laid a suddenly tender hand on his shoulder. 
“ Jimmy-boy, I never yet saw you when you 
were not good to look upon. You have the cheer- 
fulest face of any boy who goes to High — every- 
body says so. And it takes pluck — I know! I 
admire you, Jim.” 

“Do you, Natalie?” he cried, suddenly grab- 
bing at her hand, squeezing it hard, and then 
dropping it and blushing. “Well, you know we 
all admire you. Mutual admiration society — eh? 
Look out for that curb ahead, Mose.” 

“Yes, sah! Yo’ trus’ de pilot, sah. I done 
seen dat curb a mile away.” 

The black man rolled his eyes and grinned. 
There was not a soul around the Hurley premises 
who would not have done anything in the range 
of possibility for Jim. 

Others of the high school pupils joined them — 
some of the graduating class. Jim Hurley could 
not longer afford to be either pensive or senti- 
mental. It was his business to be the life of any 
crowd he was in — and, as Natalie said, it took 
pluck to do it ! 

They rustled into the big hall, the members of 
the graduating class taking their seats on the plat- 
form. The other pupils filled the gallery. The 
adult audience crowded the floor. 

It was a brilliant assemblage — and a happy one. 


• GREATEST DAY OF HER LIFE 7 

The white dresses of the girls, the knots of vari- 
colored ribbons denoting the colors of the various 
classes, the pretty decorations, and above all the 
profusion of flowers, made the hall look like 
fairy-land. 

And who among them — among the graduating 
class — would ever forget that waning June after- 
noon, when everything — earth, and air, and sky, 
and all — seemed to have formed a conspiracy to 
make this a perfect, perfect day? 

Natalie found her eyes moistening as she looked 
about at the girls and boys with whom she had 
studied and romped for so long. This was the 
end. This was really the Great Day — there never 
could be another like it in her life, or in theirs. 

For to the Buriingboro youth, school life ended 
with graduation from the high school. It was not 
a college town, nor did many of the Buriingboro 
parents send their children to higher institutions 
of education. 

Like the Raymonds, most of the Buriingboro 
people owned a little home, with a little mort- 
gage on it, a very little sum in bank, and the 
principal wage-earner of the family usually had 
very little prospect of ever earning more than he 
was right then. 

There were few “ superior ” people in Buriing- 
boro. Even the Hurleys, who had more money 


8 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


than most, had come from such small beginnings 
that it would have been impossible, had they so 
wished, to “ put on airs ” with their old neigh- 
bors. 

Estelle Maybury was the class poet, and her 
verses were applauded. Bob Granger was his- 
torian. Sally Fitch’s prophecy was very, very 
funny — especially so in the opinion of the mem- 
bers of the graduating class. 

And then it came Natalie’s turn. Natalie was 
literary — there could be no doubt of that. From 
the “ very earliest times ” it was no trouble at all 
for Natalie Raymond to write compositions. She 
always had the very highest marks for anything 
of that kind. 

Nor had she only produced amateur work. 
Now, for more than a year, she had been writing 
little juvenile stories, sketches, domestic items, 
and the like, for the Burlingboro Banner, 

Not that Mr. Franklin, the editor, could pay 
for such contributions; but he was willing to pay 
for having them set up, instead of using syndicate 
plates in their stead. 

Natalie, therefore, was “a. welcome contribu- 
tor ” to the local paper; but that was a secret that 
was not divulged outside of the family — only Mr. 
Franklin knew it, and advised her kindly along 
certain lines of work. 


THE CAPTAIN 


13 


Rose burst into wild sobbing again. She was 
just big enough to know what both disasters 
meant. 

Natalie still hushed the little girl, and rocked. 
She bravely quenched a desire to weep just as 
madly as Rose did. 

“ Now, Laura,” she said, ‘‘ you are altogether 
too big a girl to ask a question like that in the 
hearing of Rose.” 

“ Well ! Everybody can’t be repressed like you, 
Nat ” 

“And Rose!” added Natalie, to the smaller 
girl. “ Suppose mother hears you upstairs? Do 
you suppose that is going to help make her well? ” 

“ No-o,” admitted the culprit. 

A soft tapping at the window startled them 
for an instant. Natalie put the now sleeping 
Lucille upon the couch, and opened the inner 
blinds. 

It was dark outside — pitch-black. But suddenly 
the whites of a pair of rolling eyes, and a glimmer 
of ivory, indicated a face as black as the night 
itself. 

“ Oh, Mosel ” exclaimed Natalie, opening the 
French window. 

“ ’Deed it’s me, Missee,” said the black man. 
“ Ah didn’t like to pull no bell.” 

“What is it, Mose?” 


14 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


“ Mis’ Hurley done instruc’ me to arsk aftah 
Mis’ Raymon’.” 

“She is quiet now; the doctor has just left,” 
replied Natalie. “ Tell Mrs. Hurley we are much 
obliged.” 

“ An’ Mis’ Nat’lie,” whispered the black man, 
with a manner of great mystery. “ Mastah Jim, 
he say do yo’ cheer up. He been workin’ de wires 
to New Yo’k all de ebenin’. De minute de wi’less, 
or telegraft, gits any news, dey is goin’ to let 
Mastah Jim know, an’ he’ll send me ober, Missee. 
Dis chile ain’ gwine to baid ternight at all.” 

“ Bless you, Mose ! ” exclaimed the girl, with 
a sob. “ And tell Jim he is a dear.” 

“ Yassum. Anyt’ing else, Missee? ” 

“Anything else? No, I guess not, Mose.” 

“ No odder message to Mastah Jim? ” queried 
the old man, rolling his eyes. “ Des lak’ yo’ 
regards, Missee — or de lak’ o’ dat? ’ 

“ Why, of course, Mose I ” exclaimed the girl 
in surprise. “ I thank him far more than I can 
tell.” 

“ Dat’s right, Missee,” said the negro, bob- 
bing his head convulsively. A yo’ regards? ” 

“ Yes, yes, Mose. If you wish to put it that 
way,” said the surprised Natalie, and watched the 
darkey off the porch with puzzled gaze. 

But there was something else to think about 


THE CAPTAIN 


15 

besides the vagaries of the Hurleys’ old serv- 
itor. 

She got the younger ones to bed soon after they 
had eaten the meal Mrs. Hackett had so kindly 
prepared. 

“ It do bes the height of folly, Mis’ Natalie,” 
declared this good woman, “ fur youse to give up 
hope regyardin’ Mister Raymond. Look at me ! 
Whin me Pat — me oldes’ bye — wint to the Fuller- 
prunes ” 

‘‘ The what? ” gasped Laura, almost choking 
over her tea. 

“ The Fullerprunes. ’Tis a place where there 
was fightin’. ’Twas whin Pat wint to the wars, 
sure.” 

“ The Philippines,” explained Natalie, gravely. 

“ Yis. Well, he was me oldes’ — me darlin’. 
Though a maner little tyke niver run wild in Bur- 
lingboro strates,” added his mother, in an aside. 

“ But whin he wint to the wars, ’twas believin’ 
he was shot iv’ry day, I was! Sure, I had him 
murdered, an’ sint home wid legs an’ ar-rms 
missin’ iv’ry day ” 

“ Pat must be a centipede,” whispered Laura, 
who could not overlook a joke if the heavens fell. 

“ But,” pursued Mrs. Hackett, “ he wint t’roo 
the campaign like a greased rat down a drain- 
pipe 1 It niver touched him 1 ” 


1 6 THE OLDEST OF FOUR 

“ And he had to face great danger in every 
skirmish and battle, I suppose, Mrs. Hackett,” 
admitted Natalie. 

“ Sure an’ he did. An’ he was in ev’ry scrim- 
mage there was^ — whin he warn’t in the calaboose. 
An’ he warn’t scratched. Sure, yer father may 
have as good luck — why not? I’d not give up 
hope, me gyurl.” 

But it was afterward, when she was alone, that 
Natalie gave her whole mind to the problem that 
confronted her. Being the oldest of the four 
girls she had been somewhat in the confidence of 
her parents. 

Mr. Raymond had an interest in the firm for 
which he traveled. But his share in the profits 
was governed entirely by the business his own 
efforts brought in. His salary, therefore, was 
small and out of it he had to pay his traveling 
expenses. 

This arrangement, for some years, had been a 
very good one for Mr. Raymond. Out of his in- 
come he had bought their home, paying for it in 
installments. There was now but a thousand 
dollars’ mortgage on the property, the interest 
being thirty dollars semi-annually. 

But during the past few years — since Lu- 
cille’s birth, in fact — Mrs. Raymond had been 
an invalid. The doctor’s bills had been heavy. 


THE CAPTAIN 


17 

The family often had to have help in the 
house. 

Meanwhile Mr. Raymond’s income had been 
growing smaller. Changes in business was the 
cause of this to a degree. In his line all traveling 
men were not doing so well. 

For this reason he had decided to extend his 
territory as far as Jamaica and Cuba. He had 
to take with him most of their ready money when 
he had left home two months before. 

Bills had collected in his absence. Natalie 
knew that the salary due her father from Favor & 
Murch would barely pay these bills. 

How well he had done upon this southern trip 
they did not know. His orders had not been 
transmitted to the firm. His profits could not be 
adjusted until the firm filled the orders and the 
customers paid their bills. 

Therefore, if the father and husband had been 
lost at sea, the oldest daughter very well knew 
that her mother would be left almost penniless. 

“Oh, dear! if Laura and I were only boys,” 
sighed Natalie. “ It costs so much more to keep 
girls. And in an emergency like this, girls seem 
so helpless. 

“ Why, if I was a boy, I could start right out 
to-morrow and get a job — I know I could. And 
Laura would be old enough and strong enough to 


1 8 THE OLDEST OF FOUR 

work through the summer as office boy, or the 
like. 

“But who wants a couple of girls?” groaned 
she. “ And they wouldn’t pay us much, if we 
did get work. Girls seldom get more than half 
the pay of boys, no matter what they do.” 

But she took herself up short when she had 
got this far. Was this being “ the captain ” of 
the Raymond crew? She was the oldest. The 
other girls must look to her for comfort, for 
advice, for leadership. 

Should she fail in the very first emergency that 
had come into her life? She, who had only that 
day put her foot into the real world and left 
childhood behind? 

“ ‘ Next things ’ should be our motto. The 
despised way may be our way out.” 

“Why, that’s just sound! gasped Natalie 
Raymond. “ What ‘ next thing ’ can I possibly 
do? And will you please tell me what despised 
way is my way out? 

“ What — ^what a silly little fool I was when 
I wrote that valedictory! ” 


CHAPTER III 


THE GIRL WHO GREW OLD OVER NIGHT 

Mrs. Hackett went home and Natalie locked 
the lower part of the house. The neighbor who 
had remained with her mother went back to her 
own home, too. But she lived near, and if she was 
needed Natalie could rouse Laura out to call her. 
The oldest daughter took her place in her mother’s 
room for the night. 

Mother was quiet now. The physician had 
given her an opiate, because that seemed neces- 
sary. Quiet was essential if Mrs. Raymond was 
‘to recover from the shock she had received. 

Natalie lay on the couch; but she could not 
sleep. Her eyes were wide open. She listened 
for the first sound outside, or inside, the little 
cottage. 

Oh, dear! If she could only wake up to find 
it all a bad dream ! She would be willing to forget 
all the pride of graduation day if she could forget 
with it the terrible trouble that had come upon 
them. 

If father would only come in the morning, and 
straighten the trouble all out! 

19 


20 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


Natalie, it was true, shrank from the burden 
of responsibility that she saw settling upon her. 
And why should she not? 

Up to this time the girl had been as happy and 
as careless of the future as the majority of well- 
bred and well-cared-for girls of her age. 

The fact that her parents worried over financial 
matters had merely scratched the surface of Natalie 
Raymond’s mind. 

But now, in a flash — in a moment of time, as it 
appeared — the situation was changed. From 
being a dependent she had become the staff on 
which not alone the other three girls must lean,, 
but her invalid mother, as well. 

Was she to fail them? Was she to be proven 
a weakling in this, her first bout with the great 
world? 

“ To-morrow there is a whole new world for 
us to face. And with each to-morrow there is 
another.” 

“ Oh, dear! ” murmured Natalie, tossing on the 
couch, her hair disarranged, her face burning. 
“ I wish Fd never written that silly thing! ” 

Of what good were trite phrases now? It was a 
real condition she faced, not a theory. 

The family was fatherless. They were worse 
than motherless! If everybody gave up to the 
catastrophe that had overtaken them what then 


THE GIRL WHO GREW OLD 21 

would become of the Raymonds, large and 
small? 

No, no! Somebody had to go ahead, and be 
the leader, and overcome difficulties and plan their 
the leader, and overcome difficulties, and plan their 
them all in food, in clothing, and a shelter over 
their heads. 

It must be Natalie. There was no other way. 
And, despite the natural shrinking of the gently 
nurtured girl from the buffetings of the future, 
she was not really a coward. 

There was in her nature a certain determina- 
tion that friction was to bring to the surface. 
Soft and demure as she had always seemed, the 
warp and woof of Natalie Raymond’s character 
was of a kind to resist wear. 

She lay awake long hours of this night, it was 
true. But with the coming of dawn she was es- 
tablished in her future course. She knew what 
she had to do. Trample on Self. Shoulder the 
burden Fate had put upon her. Above all, do the 
unpleasant duty cheerfully! 

Her mother slept. Natalie crept down to the 
kitchen at daybreak. The fire was out, a great 
heap of dishes stood on the dresser, for Mrs. 
Hackett had not cleared up when she went home. 
It seemed to Natalie as though their kitchen had 
never looked so slovenly and shiftless. 


22 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


She cleaned out the stove, made a brisk fire, 
heated water, and washed and dried the dishes. 
Meanwhile she brewed tea and made toast. 

Her mother was arousing from her sleep. The 
tea and toast on a tray were ready for her. 

“ My daughter! My only comfort! ” moaned 
the poor woman. “ What would we do without 
you? ” 

“ I’m sure I don’t know, dear,” returned 
Natalie, composedly. “ But having got me, don’t 
worry — that’s a good mother. Remember that 
everything is going on all right, because the oldest 
of your four is at the helm.” 

Then she woke Laura and commanded her to 
keep in call of their mother until breakfast was 
ready and she could relieve her. 

There were eggs in the house, and other pro- 
visions — enough for a hearty breakfast, and as 
the children had eaten but little the night before, 
Natalie knew they would be hungry. 

Soon pattering feet overhead in the “ nursery ” 
— the big room where Rose and Lucille slept in a 
double bed and Laura was mistress of another — 
forced the oldest sister to mount the stairs again. 

“ Remember mother must have perfect quiet,” 
she warned the younger ones, gravely. “ Don’t 
you dare go in there to her — and don’t make any 
noise to disturb her.” 


THE GIRL WHO GREW OLD 23 

Then to Laura, whom she found in the bath- 
room, she said, severely: 

“ If I get up and make the fire and cook the 
breakfast, the least you can do, Laura, is to look 
after those young ones. Dr. Protest says mother 
has got to have quiet, and you’ve got to help.” 

Laura was languid and heavy-eyed. It was 
plain that she had cried a good deal. 

“ I don’t see how you can go ahead so, Nat,” 
she protested. “ I’ve been awake most all night, 
thinking about poor father.” 

“ And I have not had my clothes off,” replied 
Natalie. “ Thinking of dear father isn’t going 
to help mother, or run the house, or get food 
for us.” 

“ Natalie ! ” exclaimed Laura, under her breath, 
“you are heartless!” 

Her elder sister gave her a patient smile. 

“ Somebody must go ahead. It is my duty, 
Laura. I must take up the nearest thing at 
hand ” 

“ Next things ’ should be our motto.” 

How the phrases of her now despised valedic- 
tory kept recurring to her mind 1 She went down- 
stairs and found Black Mose, the Hurleys’ serv- 
ing man, standing at the back door. 

“ Mornin’, Missee,” he said. “ Is Mis’ Ray- 
mond better? ” 


24 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


“ I hope so. She is quiet, Mose.” 

“ Dat good! dat good! ” chuckled the darkey. 
“ Dey all — all — sends deir regyards to yo\ Mis’ 
Nat’lie. An’ Mastah Jim, he done kep’ de blue 
spark hoppin’ all night.” 

Natalie knew what that meant. Jim Hurley 
had rigged a wireless instrument in the cupola of 
the Hurley house, and he was registered as an 
operator according to Government demand. 

Everybody thought it was pretty smart for a 
cripple to take up wireless telegraphy — and to 
build his own instrument, and all. And it was. 
Jim was just as smart as he could be. 

“ Oh, Mose ! has he got any more news than 
what was in the paper? ” cried the girl. 

“ Yas’m. He done sent you disher paper wot 
yo’ kin read — an’ his regyards. Mis’.” 

Natalie smiled a little over the black man’s 
repetition of that word “ regards.” 

“ It is good of him,” she said, taking the paper 
Mose offered. “ I hope he had a nice time at 
the class supper last evening. Tell him ” 

“ He didn’t go ter no supper. Mis’ Nat’lie,” 
declared the negro, shaking his head vigorously. 

“What! ” 

“ No, Ma’am ! He suttenly did not. I done 
tol’ yo’ dat we done gwine ter sit up all night. 
If — if de news cornin’ ober de wires, or froo de 


THE GIRL WHO GREW OLD 25 

air, had been sartain sure news, Mis’, yo’d been 
’woke by Mose — ya-as indeedy! ” 

“ Oh, dear ! ” cried Natalie. “ Did that foolish 
boy stay up all night? And keep you awake, too, 
Mose?” 

Dat don’ matter whatsomever,” declared the 
negro. “ Not ’bout me. An’ Mastah Jim done 
takin’ a snooze now. . . . An* he done send his 
regyards. Mis’.” 

Natalie could scarcely repress a nervous giggle. 
This expression of the black man’s was becoming 
almost as insistent as “ Barkis is willin’.” 

“ You go home and take some sleep, too, 
Mose,” she urged him. “ And — and give Jim 
my regards.” 

This seemed to please old Mose immensely, 
and he went off with shining face, leaving Natalie 
to open Jim’s message slowly and read the follow- 
ing items jotted down by that young wireless 
operator: 

Sakonnet first seen in trouble about noon yes- 
terday by revenue cutter Malay, The Malay 
could not run near enough to more than pass 
signals. Sakonnet had cracked her tail-shaft and 
was out of control. She seemed to have no emer- 
gency canvas, or could not spread the sails. She 
was drifting nor’-nor’-west. Reported by wireless 
to Fortress Monroe. 


26 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


“ Sighted and reported at two o’clock by 
Naida, of Ford Line, which stood by until dark 
and took off by her own boats 113 passengers and 
members of crew. Will arrive in New York at 
nine to-day. Sakonnefs wireless appeared to be 
useless. 

“ Maculley Line freight-boat Pancoast, bound 
out from Norfolk for New Orleans, ran down 
close to Sakonnet, and received passengers from 
two boats and a life-raft. Number not known, 
as Pancoast is not fitted with wireless. 

“ An outward bound tramp steamship, name 
and destination unknown, observed by officers 
of Naida approaching wreck of Sakonnet when 
the former steamer was obliged to sheer off and 
steam north. There were still passengers and 
officers aboard Sakonnet, and they were burning 
costons. 

“ Reported at 1 1 155 to Ship News Service, New 
York, via wireless from Vandam Shoal lightship, 
relayed from outward bound Philadelphia Liner 
Mohawk, that she had picked up first officer of 
Sakonnet, boat’s crew and fifteen passengers. 
Passengers not named. Mohawk will touch first 
at Bermudas. 

“ Only list of passengers received is from Ford 
Liner, Naida. Mr. Raymond not listed. Alto- 
gether the Sakonnef s owners report 273 passen- 


THE GIRL WHO GREW OLD 27 

gers, first, second, and steerage, as sailing from 
Havana. 

“ It may be that not a soul aboard the Sakonnet 
is lost. At last reports she was still afloat. Mr. 
Raymond may be on the Pancoast, and you will 
hear from him at New Orleans; or on the Mo- 
hawk, and you’ll learn that when she arrives at 
the Bermudas; or on the unknown tramp steam- 
ship observed by the officers of the Naida running 
down to the help of the wrecked steamer. 

“ Keep up your plucL — Jim.” 

And Natalie, reading the clearly expressed 
items, was encouraged. She was bound to be. 

Of course her father’s name would not have 
appeared on the list of passengers rescued by the 
Ford Line boat. They were the first taken from 
the wreck, and would be mostly women and chil- 
dren. 

Father would never push himself before women 
in a time of peril — no indeed ! There was plenty 
of chance for him to have been rescued by one of 
the other steamers mentioned — or even by some 
other not yet reported. 

Natalie knew just how helpful and self-sacri- 
ficing her father would be in all the confusion and 
fright. He had always been a hero in her eyes, 
and he was sure to be one at such a time as this. 

But she determined to wait till she saw Dr. 


28 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


Protest before showing Jim’s report to her 
mother. She read it to the children, however, as 
soon as they came to breakfast, and then left them 
digesting the report, becoming momentarily more 
hopeful, while she went up to sit with her mother. 

“ Mother’s staff and comfort ! ” murmured 
Mrs. Raymond, seizing her oldest daughter’s 
hand convulsively. “ But, how hard! how hard! 
What shall we do, Natalie? I see no way 
out ” 

“ Don’t worry so. Mother. Let us hope for 
the best,” Natalie interrupted. “ Father may be 
home any day.” 

“ Have you heard anything? ” gasped the in- 
valid. 

“ Nothing definite,” said Natalie, seeing that 
she must be very circumspect in talking of her 
father. 

Later the city papers arrived in Burlingboro. 
Another steamer, passing the locality where the 
Sakonnet had become unmanageable, reported 
picking up two bodies — both of seamen. 

The Sakonnet had without doubt sunk. Had 
all been taken from her decks, or not? The un- 
certainty, it seemed to Natalie, was worse to bear 
than would be the certainty that Mr. Raymond 
had been drowned. 


CHAPTER IV 


“ A SURVIVOR OF THE ^ SAKONNET ’ ” 

Neighbors began to drop in, one by one, to 
speak in hushed tones in the kitchen, and offer 
help. But when Dr. Protest came he told Natalie 
that it would be far better for the patient if she 
saw nobody about her but the girls themselves. 

“ I am loath to suggest the engagement of a 
nurse,” said the doctor, who knew the Raymonds’ 
circumstances quite as well as Natalie herself. 
“ And if you girls are careful I believe your 
mother will get along quite as well without as 
with one. 

“ Tell her nothing about this uncertainty. She 
has already got it fixed in her mind that your 
father is lost. The see-saw of uncertainty will do 
her more harm than good. 

“ When he appears it will be time enough to 
tell her the good news. I never yet knew of a case 
where joy killed I ” 

“ You — you speak as though father was sure to 
come back,” said Natalie. 

“ And so you must feel. You are a sensible 
girl,” said the physician, quickly. “ You can see 

29 


30 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


the many chances there are in that report for his 
escape. You may hear from him immediately.” 

But they did not hear. The steamship Naida 
reached New York, and at quarantine a crowd of 
reporters swarmed aboard the Ford Liner. 

The stories of the catastrophe, as related by 
the rescued passengers and the few officers and 
crew aboard the Naida, were quite as contradic- 
tory as is usually the case at such times. 

One passenger spoke of the noble and unselfish 
conduct of both officers and crew. Another told 
of how stokers made a rush for the first boat 
and trampled women under foot, being driven 
back by the captain himself with a revolver In 
either hand. 

There was every protection possible afforded 
the passengers. There were plenty of lifeboats, 
and rafts, and a good supply of cork jackets. 

Another declared the cork-belts to be filled with 
nothing better than sawdust; that the sealed com- 
partments of the rafts burst; that the lifeboats 
themselves were like punk. 

It was a fact that the Naida had rescued all 
these people she had brought to their destination 
in her own boats. Captain Joyce, of the Sakon^ 
net, dared not trust either his boats, or his crews. 

Bulletin followed bulletin. Burlingboro was 
near enough to the big city to be flooded with two 


SURVIVOR” 


31 


or three editions of the metropolitan papers dur- 
ing the day, and the Banner itself got out an early 
edition, as it had the day before. 

The list of passengers sailing on the doomed 
boat from Havana was gone over by news editors, 
and Mr. Raymond’s name marked. One paper 
sent an extra into the town with his name em- 
blazoned across the front, and with a bad picture 
of the missing man and a worse story of his life. 

Mr. Raymond had once been a town official^ 
and the newspaper had resurrected the cut and 
story from its files. 

Every time there was a fresh extra on the street,, 
Laura rushed out to buy it. Natalie would have 
stopped this had she dared; but she was afraid it 
would only make Laura worse. 

The flyaway sister had just so much excitement 
to work off. If she could do it in this way it was 
better than to have her burst into paroxysms of 
uncontrollable sobbing. 

Rose and Lucille were very good. Naturally, 
being children, the keenness of their grief was 
soon past. Besides, they very much desired to 
please Natalie and “ help make mamma well.” 

Mrs. Hackett had run in at noon; but the poor 
woman washed and scrubbed for her daily bread, 
and was that day working for a neighbor. 

“ Sure, ’tis gittin’ on fine, ye are,” she declared. 


32 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


“ Ah, Mis’ Nat’lie, ’tis the sma-r-t gyurl I alius 
said you’d be — an’ ye’re provin’ it. An angel out 
of heaven couldn’t have cl’aned up this kitchen no 
n’ater than you, an’ that’s no lie.” 

Many of her schoolfellows came to see Natalie, 
too. They had missed her at the class-supper. 
There she should have presided, as president of 
the class. 

As far as Natalie could learn, Jim Hurley was 
the only other member who kept away from the 
class celebration. Sally Fitch, indeed, was quite 
noisy while she was in the house. Natalie was 
glad to have her go. 

All these school affairs seemed of so little in- 
terest to her now. Over night she had grown out 
of such childish interests. 

She sent Laura to market; but Laura was a 
reckless buyer, and Natalie, counting the little sum 
left in her mother’s purse, saw that they must be 
much more economical than before. 

“ I must do the buying myself. Some things 
we must curtail. And there are bills that must 
now be paid, for the tradesmen will be worried 
by the report that father is drowned.” 

So this young girl discussed in her own mind 
the domestic situation which she faced. She must 
be eminently practical. She had no time for tears 
or for idle speculation. 


“ A SURVIVOR ” 


33 

About dark, as she was getting supper, she 
heard the roll of Jim Hurley’s chair-wheels on 
their plank walk. She ran to the door to welcome 
her friend, and found the crippled youth already 
hobbling up the steps on his “ hydroplanes.” He 
carried, tucked under his arm, a newspaper. 

“ What is it? What is new?” she gasped, 
seeing the paper. 

“ Something about your father, I am sure,” 
said Jim, cheerfully. “ Nothing bad at all. 
Something that, I think, ought to make you very 
proud.” 

“ Oh! has he been found? ” whispered Natalie, 
her face ablaze with eagerness. 

“ No, dear girl,” said Jim, commiseratingly. 
‘‘ But there is no reason at all why he shouldn’t 
be heard from soon. But here is the story of a 
survivor in the Evening Courier that tells us some- 
thing about Mr. Raymond, I am sure.” 

Natalie seized the paper which had only just 
arrived from the city. The Courier was to be 
trusted. It gathered its news more carefully and 
in a less sensational way than any other of the 
afternoon city papers. 

Of course, it gave a good part of its front page 
to the latest sea horror. That was to be expected. 
But its headlines were moderate, and were not 
smirched with pink ink. 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


'34 

“ The following story was given to this news- 
paper by a survivor of the ill-fated Sakonnet 
who wished that his name might not be pub- 
lished. 

“ ‘ When the first excitement arose, a little be- 
fore noon, I was with my wife, who is an invalid, 
in our suite on the main deck. The Sakonnet had 
labored all night, for the storm had been a heavy 
one. At just what moment the propeller-shaft 
cracked and it was unsafe to longer force the en- 
gines, I do not know, 

“ ‘ But at the hour of which I speak, the steamer 
began to yaw so, and the sea buffeted her hull so 
dreadfully, that my wife was greatly frightened. 
I ran out into the main saloon to learn what had 
happened, and found it full of other frightened 
people. 

“ ‘ A purser barred the way to the open deck, 
and told us that the ship had become unmanage- 
able, and the cause, but assured us that there was 
no immediate danger. He said they were getting 
canvas on her, 

* To th« best of my belief, and from what I 
learned later, I think that the emergency sails had 
not been overhauled in many a voyage, and that 
the canvas and ropes were rotten. 

“ ^ However that may be, I know positively that 
in trying to get sail on the foremast the wind car- 


SURVIVOR’’ 35 

ried mast, sail, and all away, and with it the wire- 
less pole and aerials* 

^ Before this time some of the seamen, or 
firemen, or the like, had broken away from the 
officers and launched a boat. This boat was over- 
turned in sight of the steamer, and the men escap- 
ing in it were drowned. The boat was a lifeboat, 
presumably with air- and water-tight compart- 
ments ; but there was something wrong with it, so 
that it sank, I believe that was what made Cap^ 
tain Joyce so careful — or so dilatory — in launch- 
ing any more boats. I believe he distrusted them. 

“ ^ It is true that he waited for the Naida to 
^end her own boats to our rescue when, after the 
Malay had been beaten to leeward, the larger 
steamer came to our aid. 

“ ^ Had Captain Joyce of the Sakonnet not dis- 
trusted his boats, or his crew, most if not all of 
the passengers on the crippled steamer could have 
been put aboard the Naida before she had to 
steam north at dark. 

‘ The boat crews of the Naida worked like 
heroes, for four hours and more, to rescue the 
hundred or more passengers she brought to New 
York. The life-raft launched from the crippled 
steamer brought only members of her crew to the 
rescuing ship, swelling the number saved to 113. 

“ ‘ Of course, the word was passed that women 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


36 

and children should go first. I saw no man among 
the passengers try to push himself in ahead of the 
weaker ones. My wife refused to go without me, 
and we remained where we were. 

“ ‘ As the last boat was being filled from the 
rail of the Sakonnet, the purser — Mr. Harris — 
called Captain Joyce’s attention to the case of my 
wife and myself. The captain — who I believe 
was the right man in the right place at every stage 
of the game — ordered us both lowered into the 
boat. 

“ ‘ At that time there was no unaccompanied 
woman aboard the crippled steamer. Like my own 
wife several ladies refused to be separated from 
their husbands. We were merely the first couple 
to be given a chance. 

“ ‘ As I approached the rail, while they fastened 
my wife into the sling-chair, a passenger pressed 
forward to my side and handed me his note-book, 
or wallet. I had become acquainted with him in 
Jamaica where he had been on business, and was 
glad to renew that acquaintance when the Sakon- 
net left Havana. 

“ ‘ I had seen him calmly, graciously, and with 
splendid fortitude cheer the other passengers, help 
the ladies with the life-belts, and otherwise act 
as a brave gentleman should. He now spoke very 
calmly to me : 


“ A SURVIVOR ” 


37 


“ ‘ “ You will reach New York before me, I 
am sure. Will you kindly deliver this to my firm, 
on lower Wall Street? If anything should happen 
to me, I would feel better knowing that my family 
would receive my personal papers.” 

“ ‘ “ I will do so, Frank,” I assured him, and 
we shook hands. 

“ ‘ He then went back to the waiting passen- 
gers, continuing to help and encourage them, and 
was so engaged when I went over the side. I did 
not see him again.” 

This was not all of the story of the survivor; 
but it was as far as Natalie read. She needed no 
further explanation from Jim as to why he had 
brought the paper to her. 

Her father’s name was Frank, and his firm, 
Favor & Murch, had their offices on lower Wall 
Street. 


CHAPTER V 


“ WOMEN MUST WORK 

You see, Natalie,” said the crippled boy, 
softly. “ I was sure that means Mr. Ray- 
mond. Have you heard from Favor & Murch? ” 
“ Not a word.” 

“ Do you want me to telephone? ” 

“ I — I don’t know what to say about that — 
yet,” responded Natalie, slowly. ” But I’m just 
as grateful to you. Old Mr. Favor is not often 
in the office — and he is not a well man. And Mr. 
Murch isn’t — isn’t very friendly to father. Or, 
so I believe. I shall have to think about it.”^ 

“ That’s all right,” said Jim, rising and pre- 
paring to depart. “You know I — we all — are 
ready and anxious to give you a hand when you 
need. Don’t be afraid to send over if there is the 
least thing we can do.” 

He gripped her hand hard, and was gone, tap- 
tapping down the porch steps. Laura tiptoed in. 
“ Wasn’t that Jim? ” she asked. 

“ Yes,” replied her elder sister, absently. 

“ The dear! ” exclaimed Laura. “ What did 
he bring? ” 


38 


WOMEN MUST WORK’’ 


39 


Natalie gave her the paper to read, and the 
younger girl read more than her sister had. She 
suddenly broke out with an exclamation. 

Oh, Nat! did you see this? The captain has 
reached Norfolk.” 

“The captain of the Sakonnet?*^ asked Nata- 
lie, quickly. 

“ Yes. He was taken off by the steam-trawler, 
General Diggs. He states that every soul — pas- 
sengers and crew — left the sinking ship before he 
did, and the captain of the trawler verifies his 
statement. They saw the Sakonnet sink.” 

“ Then father must be on one of those other 
steamers?” cried Natalie. 

“ Of course he is,” declared Laura, quick to 
believe the very best “ Perhaps on the one that’s 
gone to the Bermudas.” 

“ The Mohawk! ” exclaimed Natalie. 

“ Yes.” 

“ But that’s not likely,” rejoined the elder sis- 
ter, after a moment’s thought. 

“Why not?” 

“ Because father would not have taken the first 
chance to be saved after the Naida left the spot. 
There were some women left on the Sakonnet at 
that time, you know ” 

“ It was the Pancoast, the freight steamer, go- 
ing to New Orleans, that rescued people imme- 


40 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


diately after the Naida left/’ reminded Laura. 
“ The Mohawk picked up the first officer’s boat 
with fifteen passengers. And the first officer 
♦would not have left the Sakonnet much before the 
captain, would he? ” 

“ I don’t know,” returned her sister, sighing. 

“Well!” exclaimed Laura, cheerfully. “I 
believe that father has gone to the Bermudas, and 
we shall hear from him there, by cable.” 

In the morning papers was the report of 
the Mohawk* s arrival at her destination. Among 
the fifteen passengers of the first officer’s boat 
Mr. Raymond was not listed. 

Now 128 passengers of the lost Sakonnet had 
been accounted for. All of the passengers had 
left the doomed steamer when the General Diggs 
had taken off Captain Joyce and the remainder 
of the crew. 

According to the declaration of Captain Joyce 
the only persons drowned were those seamen and 
stokers who had launched the first boat. The 
two bodies already picked up were those of mem- 
bers of this mutinous party. 

Interest was now centered in the Pancoast j the 
freight steamer bound for New Orleans, and in 
the outward-bound steamship which had come up 
just at dark. 

The Pancoast had probably rescued under fifty 


WOMEN MUST WORK 


41 


passengers. Therefore only 178 passengers could 
be accounted for as being taken aboard the Naida, 
the Mohawk, and the Pancoast. 

The purser, Mr. Harris, had commanded a 
boat into which had been placed twenty-three pas- 
sengers. Captain Joyce had counted these him- 
self. Mr. Harris had not yet reported; but that 
boat was probably picked up by a Boston-bound 
craft that had been sighted and signalled the 
Sakonnet before nine o’clock on the fatal evening. 
This craft had signalled the code-number of her 
line with rockets, and Mr. Harris was then burn- 
ing costons in his boat, quite near to the Boston- 
bound craft. She was a large freight steamer, 
and slow. 

As for the remainder of the passengers, some- 
thing like a hundred all told. Captain Joyce was 
sure that they had been picked up by the tramp 
steamer before mentioned. 

By some error the name, or destination, of this 
craft had not been noted. She had come down 
upon the Sakonnet just at dusk, her name could 
not be read, and as soon as she had cleared the sea 
of all living survivors, she had steamed away. 

She was a rusty iron steamship, standing well 
out of the sea, and her engines were powerful. 
She had three stacks, but in the darkness the 
stripes on tho^se could not be discerned. Captain 


42 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


Joyce did not remember noting any wireless mast 
upon the unknown steamer. 

It was plain, the newspapers all agreed, that 
the commander of the Sakonnet was doing his 
best to defend his owners. The equipment of the 
lost steamship had been rotten, or the captain 
would not have delayed so long in putting out the 
boats. 

It was believed that many of the lifeboats had 
to be recaulked and overhauled before Captain 
Joyce dared order them lowered into the tempes- 
tuous sea off Hatteras. 

And there was much more of this that did not 
interest Natalie and her sisters in the least. 

What they desired to know was what had be- 
come of their father. 

Was he en route to New Orleans, or to Boston, 
or on the unknown steamship, bound for an un- 
known port? 

Mrs. Raymond seemed sunk into a melancholy 
that nothing could dissipate. When Natalie was 
about, the poor woman was forever repeating that 
“ there was no way out it had become a phrase 
shuttled back and forth in her troubled brain. 

Dr. Protest shook his head. The poor lady was, 
indeed, in a perilous state. Physically and men- 
tally she was in danger, and he did not hide this 
fact from the eldest daughter. 


“ WOMEN MUST WORK ” 


43 


“ But you are doing all that can be done for 
her. I shrink from putting the burden of a trained 
nurse upon your shoulders, child,” said the good 
old physician. 

“ And it may not be necessary to have such as- 
sistance. At least, you are all doing very well 
now.” 

Lucille heard the phrase “ trained nurse ” and 
she became interested at once. 

“If mamma has a trained nurse, will she do 
tricks like Bob Granger’s trained dog? ” she 
wanted to know, much to Laura’s amusement. 

The oldest of four took her domestic responsi- 
bilities gravely, as was natural. It is no small bur- 
den to have upon one’s mind the supplying of food 
and other necessities for a family of five. 

Natalie was forced to go marketing herself 
this forenoon. No matter what happens in a 
family — what domestic tragedy may take place — 
people must eat. 

Natalie was learning the fallacy of the phi- 
losophy of the “ Three Fishers ” : “ Men must 
work but women must weep ” is not according to 
the facts at all. 

Women must work, too. Natalie was learning 
that truth, and this morning she learned the lesson 
in a very harsh manner indeed. 

Mr. Fanner kept the grocery and provision 


44 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


store where the Raymonds had traded for years. 
Mr. Fanner was a very nice man, and he be- 
longed to the church the Raymonds attended, and 
he was a member of the same lodge as Mr. Ray- 
mond. 

But Natalie was destined to learn that a social 
friendship cut little figure when it came to the 
arrangement of business matters. 

The clerks all knew Natalie, and when she en- 
tered the store there wasn’t one of them who 
would not have been glad to wait upon her in 
ordinary times. But it was Mr. Fanner himself 
who came forward to meet her. 

“ What can we do for you to-day. Miss Nata- 
lie? ” he asked. “ How is your mother — bearing 
up bravely, I hope? ” 

“ She is quite prostrated, Mr. Fanner,” said 
the girl, in a low voice. 

“ Dear, dear ! I am sorry to hear it. Unable 
to take charge of domestic matters herself? ” 

“ Quite unable — at present, sir,” Natalie said. 
She felt as though there was more than neighborly 
curiosity behind the groceryman’s words. I 
must be head of the family for a time, I fear.” 

“Ah — yes? Rather a heavy responsibility for 
one so young,” returned Mr. Fanner, eyeing her 
shrewdly. “ But let us hope for the best. Surely, 
you believe your dear father will return? ” 


WOMEN MUST WORK 


45 


“ We have every hope that he was saved. The 
captain declares that there were but eleven men 
lost in the wreck, and that all of those were of 
the crew.” 

“ Ah — yes. It is too bad your father delayed 
his return from the south so long. And your 
mother — Come back here to the office, Miss 
Natalie. I want to speak to you,” said the gro- 
ceryman, suddenly. 

She followed him with more than curiosity. 
Somehow she felt that she walked on the brink of 
trouble. 

“ Do sit down. Miss Natalie,” he urged, 
briskly handing out a chair for her. He talked 
all the time — little, meaningless patter with which 
he sought to cover something deeper. 

“ Now, my dear girl, of course you are very 
young, and all this trouble has fallen upon you 
unexpectedly. Now — er. Miss Natalie, are you 
acquainted with your father’s business affairs? ” 

She showed her surprise in her glance; and 
perhaps she sat a little straighter in the chair. 

“ I do not just understand your reason for ask- 
ing that question, Mr. Fanner,” she replied. 

“Now — now! Don’t be hasty,” advised the 
groceryman. “ You see, we all have to protect 
ourselves. First law of nature, you know, and 
all that.” 


46 THE OLDEST OF FOUR 

He laughed nervously, and passed his handker- 
chief across his lips. He was much more dis- 
turbed than Natalie was — openly. 

“ Will you tell me just what you mean, sir? ” 
she asked again. 

‘‘ Why — er — Miss Natalie, there is a little 
bill 

“ You mean that my mother has been having an 
account here — as she always does when father is 
away? ” 

“ Exactly ! Exactly ! 

“And you are afraid now that father — that 
father may not return and the bill will not be 
paid? ” 

“ Oh, no ! That is — perhaps it may be difficult 
for your mother to meet her expenses. And so, 
of course, she would not wish the bill to increase. 
It is now more than thirty-seven dollars. It is a 
larger amount— — ’’ 

Natalie arose with dignity. It was very diffi- 
cult indeed for her to speak without bursting into 
tears. But she would have died rather than allow 
Mr. Fanner to see how she was hurt I 

“ I shall go to New Yok myself to-mor- 
row, Mr. Fanner, if — if we do not hear from 
father. His salary is awaiting mother’s order 
with his firm. We will settle your account at 
once, sir.” 


“ WOMEN MUST WORK ” 47 

“ Oh, now! My dear Miss Natalie! Do not 
be offended. You understand 

“ Quite, Mr. Fanner,” said the girl, it must be 
confessed in a too lofty manner. But she was 
grievously hurt. It was almost her first encounter 
with a really mean man. Some of her trust and 
confidence in humanity had gone from her in that 
moment — gone, never to return. 

Mr. Fanner did not seek to stop her after that, 
but stood back, and she went out of the store with- 
out buying anything. She still had money in her 
purse, and there were other grocery stores in Bur- 
lingboro. 


CHAPTER VI 


FACING THE FUTURE 

But something more than Natalie Raymond’s 
pride was stung — something more than her be- 
lief in humanity scarred. 

She was aroused to the appreciation of their 
financial situation as she had not seen it before. 
There was barely enough money in the hands of 
Favor & Murch to pay such pressing bills as this 
one of Fanner’s. 

What would they do when it was gone? If 
father did not come back how would they pay the 
next quarter’s bills? How eat meanwhile? 

And, even if he returned, as Natalie made her- 
self believe, within a few days, would not these 
bills, and these difficulties face him? 

Nor could Natalie, she knew, ever ignore do- 
mestic troubles again. She had had a taste of the 
grinding responsibilities of every-day life. She 
could not forget again. 

All these sixteen years of her life her father 
and mother had been spending money for her, and 
she had never lifted her hand to earn a penny. 

48 


FACING THE FUTURE 


49 

She had never thought of it before. What girl 
of her age and in her circumstances does? 

“ I can’t go on any longer being a burden,” de- 
cided Natalie, with set lips and bright, dry eyes, 
as she hurried home after making her purchases. 

“ Whether, or no, I must be self-supporting. I 
am going to look for a position!” 

Natalie had to handle some of the home affairs 
with rather a strong hand at first. Laura’s feel- 
ings, rebounding as such a volatile person’s nat- 
urally will, from the abyss of sorrow into which 
she had first fallen, was now secure in her belief 
that her father would immediately be heard from; 
that he would return, and all would be as it was 
before. Even their mother, to Laura’s mind, was 
vastly improved. 

So the second Raymond girl came down dressed 
for a tramp in the woods with some chums, right 
after luncheon that day. Natalie had to put her 
foot down — and put it down sharply. 

“You cannot go, Laura. You must stay with 
mother — and see that the others do not get into 
mischief. I have to go out.” 

“ Why, you’ve been out all the morning, Nat! ” 
cried Laura. 

“ And I may be gone a good part of the after- 
noon. You must learn to get on without me dur- 
ing the day, perhaps ” 


50 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


“ Now, that’s not fair I I want a little time to 
myself, too,” declared Laura, quite angrily. 

“ I am not going out for my own pleasure, I 
can assure you,” returned the elder sister. “ The 
responsibility of looking out for you all ” 

“ Now, harp on that! ” said Laura, her face 
lowering. “ I don’t know what you mean.” 

“ I see you don’t,” returned Natalie, patiently. 
“ And I can’t stop to explain it all to you now. 
But think about this for a while: We are poor; 
we have no positive income if father — father 
should not return ” 

“You just stop that now! ” exclaimed Laura. 
“ You — you do it to — to make me cry. He is 
coming home I ” 

“ Please God — ^yes 1 ” cried Natalie. “ But I 
must act as though it were not a probability. I 
have business to attend to that mother cannot do, 
being ill. Stay home and mind the children and 
be kind to mother, that’s a good girl. I wouldn’t 
ask you to, Laura, if it was not necessary.” 

Now, Laura was not ungenerous, or mean, at 
heart. And her ill-temper was past in a moment. 

“All right, all right!” she said. “I’ll be 
housekeeper. And I’ll make tea-biscuits for sup- 
per. You’ll see.” 

Laura’s tea-biscuit were by a recipe that called 
for butter — and butter was forty cents a pound ! 


FACING THE FUTURE 


51 


Natalie winced. So soon had the arrows of out- 
rageous domestic fortune sought her most vulner- 
able spot — the family pocketbook. But she hadn’t 
the heart to cross Laura again just then. 

In her desk Natalie saw the closely written 
pages of something she had planned for the Ban- 
ner, It was a little winter sketch, and although 
not seasonable, she felt she would have no more 
time just now to write another for that coming 
literary number. And Mr. Franklin would ex- 
pect something, and it pleased Natalie to see her 
work in print. 

So she took the sketch with her when she went 
out, and climbed the narrow stairs to the Banner 
office, on High Street. 

“ Just as welcome as the flowers in May, Miss 
Raymond ! ” declared Mr. Franklin, a kindly old 
gentleman whom she and her family had known 
for many years. He was pleased to call himself 
her “ literary godfather,” and although he could 
pay Natalie nothing for the stories she brought to 
the Banner office, he gave her much helpful advice. 

‘‘ And what’s the news ? Has that vessel 
reached Boston? ” 

“ I don’t know,” demurred Natalie. “ But he 
might not be on that.” 

“ He’s bound to be on one of the three,” said 
Mr. Franklin, with assurance. “ Of course he is. 


52 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


And we’ll hope that he is not being borne off to 
the antipodes in that deep-sea steamer that seems 
the Sakonnefs passengers, 
the Sakonnef s passengers. 

“ Ah! ’tis a sad thing, however one looks at it. 
And you and your sisters and mother are not 
alone in their trouble. But have courage! The 
uncertainty will not be for long.” 

“ Meanwhile, we are in difficulties,” said Nata- 
lie, timidly. “ We are not very rich, Mr. Frank- 
lin. I do wish I could earn some money.” 

“ Bless us ! Are you so soon desirous of turn- 
ing all that school-lore you have absorbed into 
dollars and cents? ” 

” I do not know that what I have learned at 
school can be turned into dollars and cents. I wish 
now I had taken a commercial course.” 

“Oh, no! Oh, no! don’t say that,” protested 
the editor. “ You have laid a very good founda- 
tion for a broader and more useful life than a 
commercial one. I feel sure of it.” 

“ But I really am looking for work, Mr. Frank- 
lin. I am going to some of the shops this after- 
noon,” announced Natalie, firmly. 

Mr. Franklin looked at her through his steel- 
bowed spectacles, and slowly shook his head. 

“ I hate to think of you in a store.” He rapped 
his knuckles on the folded paper she had brought 


FACING THE FUTURE 


53 

him. “ There lies your path, Natalie Raymond. 
Business will not do for you.” 

“ I am afraid it will have to do for me,” she 
told him, as she went out. 

Yet as she went down the stairs there suddenly 
passed through her mind the thought: 

“ The despised way may be our way out.” 

“ Pshaw! ” she exclaimed. “ That old valedic- 
tory again. And from all the Banner would pay 
me for writing stories I’d become rich quick — 
yes? ” 

She knew a girl who had left school the year 
before to work in Kester & Baum’s dry-goods 
store — Helena Comfort. Helena’s father had 
died, and that seemed, at this time of trouble, to 
make a bond between Helena and herself, al- 
though Natalie had not seen much of her former 
schoolmate during the past year. 

But Burlingboro was not so large a city that 
gossip did not travel in seven-leagued boots. 
Helena had heard that Mr. Raymond had been 
aboard the Sakonnet, 

“ But it can’t be he’s drowned, Nat,” she cried, 
squeezing the other girl’s hand. “ He’ll come 
back.” 

“ Whether he does, or not, my schooling is 
finished. I went one year longer than you did, 
Helena; but I believe my folks needed my help 


54 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


quite as much as your folks needed you. I am 
going to work now.” 

“ But not in a store 1 ” 

“ Is it so hard? ” asked Natalie. 

“ No-o. I like it. But think of Natalie Ray- 
mond behind a counter ! ” 

“ I wish you wouldn’t talk that way, Helena,” 
replied Natalie, a little shaken. “ Did / ever give 
myself airs? Am I too good to work in a shop? 
Or don’t I know enough? ” 

Goodness me, Nat! You’re as smart as they 
make ’em. But it does seem funny — Oh, well; I 
bet old Mr. Kester would be glad to hire you. 
You look so bright and smart, you know.” 

Thafs a compliment, anyway,” returned 
Natalie, smiling. 

‘‘ All right. You go back to the office and try 
him. Tell him who you are. Although he and 
his partner are Jewish people, they like to engage 
Gentile clerks — Mr. Kester says ‘ idt loogs goot 
for trade.’ He’s a funny old man — but kind- 
hearted after all. Only — remember that ‘ busi- 
ness is business ’ ; look out for your own end of 
the bargain. Although the old gentleman is char- 
itable he never mixes his philanthropy with busi- 
ness.” 

“ I am not looking for charity,” declared 
Natalie, looking mighty haughty again. 


FACING THE FUTURE 


55 


“ Of course not. But a very little humility will 
help — when you want a job. Just the same, stick 
out for six dollars a week. Refuse to come for 
any less, and don’t be afraid to start for the door 
if he seems unwilling to pay that. He’ll come to 
terms before you get out of sight if he really 
wants you.” 

Thus advised and forewarned Natalie went 
back to the firm’s office. For her own sake she 
was glad to find nobody there at the moment but 
old Mr. Kester himself. 

Just as Helena had prophesied, Natalie had to 
bargain, and haggle, and listen to much talk from 
Mr. Kester before the old gentleman would ad- 
vance his first bid of four dollars a week to six. 

Indeed, she had to start for the door, and to 
her own fright reached it before the little old man 
came chasing out after her and led her back into 
his private office. 

“Ach!” he gasped, mopping his bald head, 
which had become red enough to touch a match 
off on — or so it seemed. “ Ach ! what a har-rd- 
heardted madchen it iss — yes? Undt it loogs so 
modest andt kindt. Ach, these ’Merican madchens 
— they haf noddings to learn from de oldt Jew 
when it comes to a pargain — yes? ” 

And then he laughed, and agreed to take Nata- 
lie on at the notion and ribbon counter the very 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


56 

next week at the wage she had demanded. So the 
girl went home after all with a strange, new, 
triumphant feeling. 

She had taken the first step into that new world 
she had prated of on graduation day. But it was 
a step she had never looked forward to. She had 
never even dreamed of herself behind a counter 
at Kester & Baum’s. 

She determined to tell her mother nothing 
about it. Mrs. Raymond was in no mind to 
understand, or to discuss, any of these domestic 
troubles that faced Natalie. 

She was stunned, or numbed by the shock she 
had received. But her father’s appearance, Nata- 
lie almost believed, would make her mother in- 
stantly well. 

But Laura had to be told, and Laura was a 
born aristocrat. What? Natalie Raymond de- 
mean herself — and smirch the family escutcheon, 
by becoming a mere shop-girl — working behind a 
counter in a cheap-john store? 

“It’s preposterous!” gasped the twelve-year- 
old. “ You’ll shame us all before our friends. 
Why! there won’t be a decent person in Burling- 
boro speak to us.” 

“ I am afraid we will have to stand any little 
ostracism that my act may bring,” said Natalie, 
quietly, waiting for her younger sister to get over 


FACING THE FUTURE 


57 


her paroxysm. “ We must all do what we can. 
You can look after the little folks and mother 
during the day time. Fll do all I can at 
night ” 

“ You never mean to do it, Nat! ” cried Laura. 

“ I must. I see no other way. It is the thing 
nearest to my hand ” 

That valedictory again I That thing was going 
to haunt her all the rest of her life, she believed. 

“ You’re going to work in that horrid store 
just out of spite I ” sobbed Laura. 

“ I’m going to work there for six dollars a 
week. Nothing very spiteful in that, I hope,” re- 
turned the elder sister, grimly. 

But, as usual, Laura quieted down after a time 
and was made to see the better side of the affair. 
She even promised, before the evening was over, 
with her arms about Natalie’s neck, to do her 
share faithfully and keep every little trouble pos- 
sible from mother. 

They had long been used to petting their 
mother, and saving her steps and trouble, as their 
father did. So it was no new regime that was 
organized. 

Even Lucille had learned to play quietly with 
her dolls in mother’s room; and if the invalid 
wanted anything the baby could call Rose, or 
Laura. 


58 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


The next morning Natalie hurried off to the 
city. She had frequently been to the offices of 
Favor & Murch, and she knew just how to get 
there in the most direct way. 

Old Mr. Favor was himself in the place — in 
his private office. Natalie was very glad of that, 
for truth to tell, she did not like the junior partner 
very much. 

But the old gentleman’s eyes were red, and he 
was crying softly into his handkerchief, with a 
fresh edition of an afternoon paper spread upon 
the desk before him. 

“Natalie! Natalie, child!” he gasped, when 
he saw her. 

“What is it?” the girl demanded, her heart 
seeming to stand still, and the pallor growing in 
her face. “ There is something new ” 

“Haven’t you seen this paper, child?” de- 
manded Mr. Favor. 

“No.” 

“ Both of those other steamers — the Pancoast 
at New Orleans and the other at Boston — have 
reported the lists of the passengers and crew 
saved from the Sakotinet. In neither list is your 
father’s name.” 

But Natalie would not lose hope like this. She 
pulled herself together and suddenly smiled — if 
a little faintly — at old Mr. Favor. 


FACING THE FUTURE 


59 

“ Why ! ” she said, “ then we know exactly 
where he is at last.” 

“How’s that, child?” demanded the old gen- 
tleman. 

“ Father has gone with the hundred, or more, 
passengers upon the unknown freight steamship, 
that was outward bound. We’ll hear from him as 
soon as the vessel touches port. But that may be 
clear across the ocean.” 

“ Well, well! you have courage, child,” said the 
old gentleman. “ Poor Frank! ” 

“ But you have heard from him here at the 
office? ” suggested the young girl. 

“ Heard from him? Since the wreck? ” 

“ Yes,” replied Natalie, and she swiftly 
sketched the story in the paper of the anonymous 
survivor of the sunken steamer. 

“ Why, I know nothing about that, child,” de- 
clared Mr. Favor. “ I do not think it could be 
your father who was referred to. At least, I have 
heard nothing of it. I have not been down to 
the office myself for two days, and I have not 
seen Mr. Murch to-day. Surely, if your father’s 
wallet had been brought in here by any fellow- 
passenger, I would have heard of it.” 

Somehow, this disappointment seemed the 
greatest blow Natalie had received since the first 
announcement of the wreck of the Sakonnet, She 


6o 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


had to sit down for a moment, and her voice was 
not steady when she preferred the request she had 
come to the city to make. 

Her mother could not sign an order. She was 
too ill. But they were in need, and would Mr. 
Favor let her have the salary due her father to 
pay the bills that pressed them? 

“Certainly! Certainly, Miss Natalie!” de- 
clared the old gentleman. “ I’ll get it from the 
cashier myself for you,” and he bustled out of the 
private office. 

He returned, thrusting the money into an 
envelope, which he sealed and saw that she put 
safely in her bag. It was not until she got home 
that Natalie learned that the good old gentleman 
had overpaid the sum due by fifty dollars. 

But it was welcome — how welcome only Natalie, 
as she looked over her mother’s little account 
book, and the sheaf of bills, knew ! It smacked of 
charity, yet it was not the same; nor did Natalie 
have the courage to return Mr. Favor’s bounty. 


CHAPTER VII 


THE DESPISED WAY 

Hope for Mr. Raymond’s safety had now 
narrowed down to the unknown steamship re- 
ported as bearing passengers away from the spot 
where the Sakonnet sank. 

Jim Hurley was an ever-present comforter 
these days. At least, if he was not present in per- 
son at the Raymond cottage some part of the day, 
he sent old Mose to assure Natalie that “ Mastah 
Jim done watch de blue spark — an’ he sends his 
regyards, Missee.” 

Other neighbors were very kind and consider- 
ate, too. Many tasty dishes were sent to the in- 
valid as well as heartier and quite as palatable 
viands for the girls’ own table. And Mrs. Hack- 
ett came in and did the week’s wash just as she al- 
ways had, and tried to refuse the dollar and a 
half due her. 

“ Now, Miss Nat’lie, sure it do be an imposi- 
tion fer me to take a dollar an’ a half fer such 
a little smitch of washin’. An’ you an’ Miss Laura 
doin’ all of the ironin’. Sure, a dollar’s more than 
enough. 

6i 


62 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


“ An’ sure, if ye’d be writin’ a letter now to 
me Pat, in the avenin’ belike, w’en ye’ve nawthin 
else ter do, sure I’d be glad to pay ye for yer 
trouble. 

“ Me ban’s is so stiff an’ lame, wot wid wan t’ing 
an’ another, that me hand-writin’ is quite sp’iled, 
so’t is. I’d be ashamed ter have Patrick show me 
letter to his friends down there in N’Orlanes 
where he’s wor-r-rkin’.” 

As it was a well-known fact to the Raymonds 
that Mrs. Hackett could not even sign her own 
name — save with a cross — this fiction of her hand- 
writing becoming so wretched was passed over 
lightly. But Natalie told her she would write for 
her to her absent son at any time. ^ 

There was something that troubled Natalie 
vastly, however, but which she discussed with no- 
body. For even Laura seemed to have forgotten 
it 

That was the story in the Courier of the sur- 
vivor who had taken in charge the pocket-book 
of a certain “ Frank ” among the passengers of 
the wrecked steamer, and who was to deliver such 
property to the man’s firm at their offices in lower 
Wall Street 

It seemed strange that there should have been 
two men among the passengers of the ill-fated 
Sakonnet who worked for firms in lower Wall 


THE DESPISED WAY 63 

Street. Yet such must be the case — and both of 
them answered to the name of Frank! 

“ Or else,’’ said Natalie, to herself, “ that man 
did not go to the office as requested and deliver 
up the purse.” 

She determined to ask Mr. Franklin about 
this. He was a newspaper man and he would be 
able to tell her, perhaps, if there was any way of 
discovering the identity of the man who had told 
his story to the Courier reporter. 

But the minute she appeared in the editor’s 
office it was an entirely different topic Mr. Frank- 
lin drew her attention to. He handed her back 
the winter sketch she had left with him on her 
former visit. 

“ I haven’t the heart to use it, Natalie,” he de- 
clared. “ I’d like to — I don’t care anything about 
its unseasonableness. But it would make a corking 
good magazine story, and you can make it suit 
some editor, I am sure.” 

“A real magazine! ” gasped Natalie, clasping 
her hands. 

“ You’ve been getting experience during this 
last year,” said Mr. Franklin. “You are no 
longer an amateur. Many of these pieces you 
have been giving me lately I am sure you could 
find a market for among the home, or domestic, 
magazines. 


64 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


“ I want to see you get on, Natalie. Your 
talent lies this way. Begin sending your work to 
the magazines — I’ll give you a list to try. If the 
stuff isn’t accepted it will be time enough to hand 
it over to the Banner. 

“ You see, I am talking against my own in- 
terests. But I know your need, my child. At 
least, you take this ‘ Robbers of the Year ’ and 
write it over. Here, I’ll show you where I be- 
lieve it can be expanded, and where it had bet- 
ter be cut.” 

He went over it carefully with her, pointing 
out the changes she might make to strengthen the 
story. But Natalie, although she was delighted 
with this praise from Mr. Franklin, did not forget 
the errand that had brought her to the newspaper 
office. 

“ I can give you a letter to the news editor of 
the Courier j Natalie,” he said, slowly. “ But I 
would wait. Wait until we hear from the last 
batch of survivors. I am confident that your 
father is on that unknown steamship.” 

“ And then it was not he of whom the man in 
the Courier spoke? ” 

“ Oh ! I could not say that. But your father 
will soon return, and he will know all about his wal- 
let. Do you presume that he had much money 
in it?” 


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NATALIE WAS NATURALLY ATTRACTIVE TO CUSTOMERS. 

Page 65. 




THE DESPISED WAY 65 

“Oh! I don’t suppose he did,” admitted Nata- 
lie. 

“ Then, if you can get along without going 
after the wallet, for a while, 1 would wait.” 

“ All our bills are paid, thank goodness,” de- 
clared the girl, proudly. “ And I am going to 
work on Monday for Kester & Baum.” 

“ My goodness me I don’t let such work as that 
interfere with your trying to do something with 
your talent for writing!” cried Mr. Franklin. 

Nevertheless, Natalie did not have so much 
confidence as the editor of the Banner in her 
ability to earn real money with her pen. 

Nor did she tell him how very small a sum 
was left in the family purse after she had paid Mr. 
Fanner, and the other household accounts. The 
six dollars per week she could earn at the dry- 
goods store would go but a little way, too, in pay- 
ing the expenses of the Raymond family. And yet 
she knew that she must pay as she went. If the 
father and husband did not return to them Natalie 
felt that she would have no right to incur debts. 

She took hold of the new work on Monday 
with some enthusiasm, however. It was not hard 
for a bright girl like her, with a good memory and 
a desire to learn, to become familiar with the 
goods and prices. 

She was naturally attractive to customers, being 


66 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


so pretty and ladylike. And she quickly learned 
that a smile and a word or two of advice about 
the notions she handled often caused a customer 
to buy two articles where she had intended to 
purchase only one. 

Before the end of the second day old Mr. 
Kester spoke to her. 

“ You haf de tr-r-radin’ instinct, Mees Nat’lie. 
Achl you are horn for de wor-r-rk. You will get 
on famously here — yes? ’’ 

But it cannot be said that Natalie Raymond 
hoped to spend the rest of her life behind a 
counter. It seemed to her as though the education 
her parents had given her should bring her some 
better work than this. 

At night, while she sat in her mother’s room 
long after the children had gone to bed, she wrote 
several little pieces which she mailed to some of 
the magazines Mr. Franklin had named. And, 
with care, she rearranged and rewrote “ The 
Robbers of the Year.” 

This was the longest story she had ever tried, 
yet at that it was only two thousand words. She 
sent it to Our Twentieth Century Home. 

Yet she had no particular confidence in her 
success along this line. She loved to write; but 
it did not seem possible that anything that came 
so easy to her hand and brain, and which was a 


THE DESPISED WAY 67 

pleasure rather than a labor, could bring her any 
great amount of money. 

Natalie had “ scribbled,” as she called it, all 
her life — since ever she could read and write. 
But it had been mostly for her own and the fam- 
ily’s amusement. Now she felt that she must 
turn every talent she possessed to account. If a 
dollar or two was to be made in this way, she 
wished to make it. 

Laura could not get over the misfortune of the 
oldest of the four working in a store. And there 
was another who disapproved of this work which 
Natalie had been so glad to take up. 

She found Jim Hurley in the cottage kitchen 
one evening when she came home from work. 

“Goodness gracious me, Nat! ” exclaimed the 
young fellow. “ You mustn’t do this.” 

“ Do what. Jimmy-boy? ” asked she, laughing 
at him. 

“Why, become a common salesgirl behind a 
counter. I didn’t know about it till mother came 
home to-day in tears — yes, indeed! She actually 
cried. 

“ She said it seemed so awful to see one of the 
Raymonds doing such a menial thing. It’s just 
awful, Nat. Your father will sure be found ” 

“Meanwhile, what am I to do, Jim?” she 
asked him, quietly. “We have practically no 


68 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


money. I must earn some. The support of the 
family devolves upon me. Can you advise me how 
to get a better position than I have? ” 

“ Why— Natalie ” 

“ Just so,” said the girl, nodding her head. 
“ There is no other way out, it seems. My edu- 
cation doesn’t seem to have fitted me for doing 
any office or professional work. I can’t typewrite 
and I do not know shorthand. Nor have I the 
time to learn the latter. 

“ Work is work — and as long as it is honest, 
what difference does it make?” 

“But, Natalie!” he cried, in desperation. 
“ You oughtn’t to work at all. Your mother 
needs you at home. The children need you.” 

“ Laura does very well. For this summer, at 
least, she must be housekeeper — under my direc- 
tion. Even when dear father comes back — as I 
hope and pray he may before long! — I must keep 
at work. The family needs the money.” 

“ I’ll lend you money, Nat! ” cried the young 
fellow, his face growing red. “ I’ve got plenty — 
of my very own.” 

“ Now, that’s nice of you. Jimmy-boy,” said 
she, patting his shoulder tenderly. “ But I 
couldn’t take it.” 

“ Why not, I want to know? ” he cried, almost 
fiercely. 


THE DESPISED WAY 69 

Why — why — Jim, there’s no reason in the 
world why you should help the Raymonds to pay 
their way.” 

Yes, there is,” he declared, doggedly. 

“What is it?” asked the girl, in wide-eyed 
wonder. 

“ You — you know how fond I am of you, Nat. 
I — I’m not like other fellows, I know. I never can 
be like ’em. But I’ve feelings, Natalie, and I — 
I’ve been fond of you ever since we were kids — 
since before I was hurt and had to go on these 
things,” and he shook the ebony crutches angrily. 

“ Yes, Jimmy, I know what a good, true friend 
you are. But I — ^I couldn’t take the money, I 
really couldn’t.” She held out her hand. “ Good- 
bye I” 

“ But, Nat—” 

“ It’s no use — I couldn’t. Good-bye ! ” 

She watched him go down the steps and sink 
into the chair which Mose had waiting, and his 
face, as he was wheeled away into the darkness, 
haunted Natalie Raymond for many a day. 


CHAPTER VIII 


HOPE FAILS 

“ I SEE no way out, daughter — no way out ! ” 

This was Mrs. Raymond’s continual cry. De- 
spite the fact that Dr. Protest assured Natalie that 
the invalid was no worse than she had been — in- 
deed, that she was advancing slowly toward a bet- 
ter state of mind and body, this reiterated belief 
on Mrs. Raymond’s part became very hard for 
Natalie to endure. 

And the girl, as the days wore on, found other 
things very hard to bear, too. Standing behind 
the counter at Kester & Baum’s was not the easiest 
work in the world. 

She found her back and limbs aching. It was 
all she could do sometimes to drag herself home 
at night to the little cottage. And there were al- 
ways many household tasks for her to perform 
which could not be entrusted to Laura. 

Besides, more than Laura and the Hurleys dis- 
approved of Natalie working in the dry-goods 
store. Estelle Mayberry chanced to come into 
the place, saw Natalie at the notion counter, 
turned red, and fled. 


70 


HOPE FAILS 


71 


“ If I drive customers away like that, Mr. Kes- 
ter will not be pleased,’’ thought Natalie; but she 
could smile over it. 

However, it was not so easy to bear when Bob 
Granger’s aunt came sweeping into the store to 
complain about something that she had bought at 
the notion counter, and pounced upon Natalie as 
the person upon whom to pour out the vials of 
her wrath. 

But the girl bore it without complaint. It was 
“ all in the day’s work.” Why should she feel 
herself too proud for this position? Was it not 
bringing her money that would help the family to 
buy food? 

There were many little kindnesses done to the 
Raymonds, however, that made grateful tears 
start to Natalie’s eyes whenever she thought of 
them — graceful little acts by neighbors and friends 
which surely the Recording Angel noted. 

And Mrs. Hackett insisted that Natalie write 
to her Pat. She declared the girls’ wash was now 
so small — Mrs. Raymond being abed and all — 
that seventy-five cents was plenty for it. 

Natalie wrote the letter as instructed, in her 
very oest style, using her monogrammed paper, and 
sealing the envelope with her own seal. It pleased 
Mrs. Hackett immensely; but it would have 
pleased Natalie more had the woman not insisted 


72 THE OLDEST OF FOUR 

that the epistle be ended with the following 
couplet : 

My pen is poor, my ink is pale. 

My love for you can never fail ! 

** Your own mother, 

Her 

“ Jenny X Hackett.” 

Mark 

Natalie was writing almost every evening — • 
long after the younger ones were abed. She could 
rest, she thought, in her chair from the work of 
the day; she did not know then that she was tax- 
ing both her brain and her body more than they 
should be. 

But as she continued to write, her love for 
creative work increased. And the more she wrote 
the clearer her ideas became and the more they 
seemed to throng her brain. 

And one day she came home to find a thin little 
letter waiting for her with the card of a certain 
publishing house printed in the upper left hand 
corner. 

She tore it open, while the other three stood 
around in vast anxiety. An acknowledgment 
slip to sign, and a little pink check for four dol- 
lars lay in her hand. 

“Goody! Goody! ” cried Laura, hugging her 


HOPE FAILS 


73 

tight. “It’s real money, Natl Now you can 
leave that hateful store.” 

“What! On the chance of getting a four- 
dollar check? ” cried Natalie, with a grim little 
smile. 

But she was proud — and how thankful 1 That 
made her income for that week ten dollars. Why, 
they could almost live on that I 

The newspapers had gradually given less and 
less space to the wreck of the Sakonnet. All but 
104 passengers had been accounted for. Two or 
three of those rescued, and several of the crew, 
were still in hospital. 

But nowhere — either in Boston, New York, the 
Bermudas, or New Orleans, was there any word 
of Mr. Raymond. 

Three weeks passed — and more. Indeed, 
Natalie had worked three weeks in Kester & 
Baum’s when the cable brought the news from 
Buenos Aires that the steamship Eldorado^ from 
Baltimore, had recovered from boats and from 
the sea 103 passengers of the Sakonnet^ wrecked 
off Cape Hatteras. 

The list of passengers was given complete. It 
could not be doubted. The papers were again 
full of the affair, with cabled despatches to the 
anxious friends of these passengers, whose safety 
had so long been in doubt. 


74 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


But there came no word from Mr. Raymond. 
He had not been among those saved. 

The last hope had failed. 

They dared not tell Mrs. Raymond. Indeed, 
Dr. Protest had warned the girls to say nothing 
to encourage their mother to believe that there 
was hope of their father’s final return. 

Laura quite broke down and went to bed. For- 
tunately the news was received on Saturday. 
Natalie could nurse her younger sister, and keep 
the other children out of Mrs. Raymond’s sight 
over the Sabbath. 

The oldest of the four could not think of her- 
self. She had to support all the others in this 
trial. 

The last hope had failed. She could not bear 
to think of it. Never again to see their jolly, 
companionable father. The thought, whenever it 
recurred to Natalie, was like the stab of a knife 
in her heart.. 

A settled melancholy fell upon the little cottage. 
Laura was up and about on Monday, but languid 
and heavy-eyed. 

And Natalie had to go forth and face the 
world with the hopeless feeling bearing upon her 
mind that affairs could never be better than they 
were. She must drag out her existence behind 
Kester & Baum’s counter; and what she earned 


HOPE FAILS 


IS 

there was so little that it would be impossible for 
them to keep out of debt. 

She saw the little accounts piling up — despite 
the utmost she could do, these would increase. A 
dollar here, another there, and she could never 
seem to pay one of the bills out of her salary. 

Her mind returned oft and again to the story 
of the man who had talked with the Courier re- 
porter. Couldn’t it be possible that there was a 
mistake somewhere — that this man had meant her 
father, after all? Could he have taken her fa- 
ther’s wallet to Favor & Murch without any ac- 
count being made of it in that office? Or for 
some reason, had the survivor of the Sakonnet 
failed to do as his friend and fellow-passenger 
had asked him? 

The Raymonds had heard nothing from their 
father’s employers since Natalie had been to the 
city. Of course, there was no more salary coming 
to them. Indeed, Mr. Favor had been very gen- 
erous in paying Natalie. 

But the girl wrote to the firm a polite note ask- 
ing if nothing had been heard of the man who 
had told his story in the Courier, pointing out the 
fact that she had hoped that the purse to be de- 
livered was her own father’s. 

In return she received a brusk note from Mr. 
Murch himself. Nothing was known of the cir- 


7 * 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


76 

cumstances mentioned, and no property of Mr. 
Raymond had reached the office in any way. 

She could understand that the junior partner 
would feel aggrieved because the contracts her 
father might have made for goods, while on his 
southern trip, had not reached the firm. 

And if the firm did not receive those orders, 
and they remained unfilled, of course there would 
be no further money coming from Favor & 
Murch. 

“ There is no way out — no way out ! ” poor 
Mrs. Raymond repeated again and again. 

But Natalie could not afford to reveal her own 
hopelessness before the invalid — or the other 
children. 

“ Of course there’s a way out. Mother. Fm 
going to keep on writing, and working. I’ll do 
something hig yet — ^you see. Why I I’ve already 
got real money for writing — think of it ! 

“ The way is opening before me — I see it. 
Don’t you be alarmed. Mother-mine ! ” 

But did she believe this herself? She did not 
dare stop to ask. It seemed the only thing to do, 
and she worked on, with the courage of a soldier 
fighting against desperate odds. 

“ ‘ Next things ’ should be our motto. The 
despised way may be our way out.” 


CHAPTER IX 


TROUBLE AT THE STORE 

Laura took Lucille to church one Sunday and 
the little girl came back and told Natalie, who 
questioned her, that the minister’s sermon was all 
right at the beginning and at the end; but “there 
was too much middle to it.” 

And that was the opinion the oldest of four 
soon had regarding her work at Kester & Baum’s. 
She went to the store each morning with revived 
interest — for that was Natalie’s way. 

She really tried to make the very best of every- 
thing. She kissed “ Mummy-kins,” and Laura, and 
“ the kids,” and went off those hot July mornings 
as cheerfully as though she were going to a picnic. 
And when she came home, after the long, breath- 
less, sticky day — Rose said “ the humility is so 
dense I ” — she came with a step and spirit that both 
revived when she planted her foot in the Raymond 
yard. 

But in between ! 

“ Business is business ” was the motto, as 
Helena Comfort had said, of Kester & Baum. 

77 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


78 

Well, Natalie could expect no better treatment 
than the other girls received. 

In rotation the older clerks each had one week’s 
vacation during the summer, with pay; but of 
course Natalie could not expect such a favor, when 
she had only worked so short a time. 

She did ask the favor of half a day off, how- 
ever, about the first of August. She felt as though 
she must. 

She had received a two-dollar check from an- 
other magazine, but that was all. She had not 
heard from her short story, “ The Robbers of the 
Year,” since she had mailed it to Our Twentieth 
Century Home; but Mr. Franklin told her that 
that was no uncommon occurrence. 

However, Natalie was being sorely pressed for 
money. All she had received from her father’s 
firm had long since been expended, and the bills 
were beginning to accumulate with a rapidity that 
frightened her. 

All hope that the mystery of her father’s dis- 
appearance would ever be explained had almost 
died in the girl’s heart. The papers had talked of 
the affair for a few days only. 

Every other passenger aboard the Sakonnet, and 
all but eleven of her crew, had safely reached one 
port or another. It was strange that Mr. Ray- 
mond should have so completely disappeared. 


TROUBLE AT THE STORE 


79 


One or two papers kept up some sort of an in- 
quiry for a week, or more. Some few stewards, 
or seamen, were interviewed, and remembered that 
the missing man had been on deck with the other 
passengers. One even claimed to have seen him 
in his shirt-sleeves — cold as the night was — after 
the Naida had sheered off with the first lot of 
passengers saved with difficulty from the doomed 
ship. 

It was intimated in one paper that Mr. Ray- 
mond might have been among those reckless and 
mutinous stokers and seamen who had launched 
the first boat, and been drowned. 

This suggestion hurt Natalie cruelly. But Mr. 
Franklin told her to pay no attention to such a 
calumny. It would better die of itself. 

Natalie had obtained a letter from Mr. 
Franklin to the news editor of the Courier, Mr. 
Staple. And obtaining Mr. Kester’s permission to 
take an afternoon off, she spent regretfully the sum 
necessary to pay her fare to New York and 
reached the newspaper office on Park Row in the 
midst of the turmoil and riot of “ putting the six 
o’clock edition to bed.” 

Mr. Staple was a little, gray, harassed man, 
with a green shade over his deep-set eyes, and a 
quick, jerky manner which was not conducive to 
Natalie’s peace of mind when a grinning boy led 


8o THE OLDEST OF FOUR 

her to his desk after she had sent in Mr. Franklin’s 
letter. 

There were too many smiling young men around 
— some smoking, some rattling typewriters out- 
rageously, some in their shirt-sleeves, some with 
their hats on. Natalie realized that she was a 
centre of interest. 

Mr. Staple was very curt and polite. He said 
it was against his rule to give the information 
she required; yet the circumstances, as Mr. Frank- 
lin had explained them, warranted his doing so in 
this case. 

He handed to Natalie a card on which he had 
written a name and address. And it was a name 
the girl had heard, and the address was in that old 
residential section — the lower part of Madison 
Avenue. 

“ This gentleman will not see you unless you 
have some very good way of introducing yourself, 
Miss. Are you alone? ” asked Mr. Staple. 

She told him she was. 

‘‘ Here I ” he exclaimed, in his gruff way, and 
wrote the word “ Important ” on his own card and 
thrust it into her hand. “ Send your own card in 
with this — you have one ? ” 

“ Oh, yes, sir,” replied Natalie, blushing. 

“ That is all I can do for you. Tell Mr. Mid- 
dler your story. He is a stockholder in the Courier 


TROUBLE AT THE STORE 8i 


and so he talked to me; but his name was not to 
be given out for publication. Whether your father 
is the man he referred to in his story of the wreck, 
I do not know.” 

The afternoon was waning and Natalie hurried 
up town, leaving the subway at Twenty-eighth 
Street. The house where she ventured to ring at 
the front entrance was so grim-looking that she 
was half afraid before a stately person in black 
opened the door, stared at her for a moment, and 
then unlatched the grill as well. 

“ Whom would you see. Ma’am? ” he asked. 

“ Mr. Middler.” 

“ You have an appointment with Mr. Middler, 
Ma’am?” 

“No. But my business is pressing. I have 
these cards. Will you take them to him? ” 

“ I will give them to his secretary. Ma’am. 
You will come in and wait, if you please.” 

In the reception room to which she was shown 
Natalie felt strangely lonely and afraid. The 
great house seemed so still. A clock ticked heavily 
on the stair and suddenly — like the clang of a 
prison door — tolled one, the quarter-hour. 

A gentleman in black entered. He was a wisp- 
ish sort of man, gray over his ears, and wearing 
eyeglasses. He fussed with the string of these 
glasses all the time he talked. 


82 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


“ You cannot see Mr. Middler. Mrs. Middler 
is very ill. You will have to talk with me, no 
matter what your business may be, young lady,” 
said the secretary. 

Natalie, knowing just what she wished to say, 
said it promptly and with no loss of time. 

“ I know about the wallet. Yes, I took it my- 
self to the offices as Mr. Middler promised. I 
was not with him and Mrs. Middler on their trip 
to the West Indies. I know little about the wreck 
save what he told the reporter for publication. 
The shock of it brought on Mrs. Middler’s present 
unfortunate condition.” 

“ And will you tell me to whom you gave 
the wallet — and the name of the man who owned 
it?” 

“ Why, it was your father’s wallet. Miss. At 
least, the name was Frank Raymond. Mr. Mid- 
dler spoke well of him. And it was to the 
office of the firm he worked for that I took the 
wallet.” 

“ Favor & Murch ! ” cried Natalie. 

“ Indeed, yes. That is the firm.” 

“ But who received it there? I called on Mr. 
Favor ” 

“ I saw Mr. Murch. He receipted for the 
wallet.” 

“And there was money in father’s wallet?” 


TROUBLE AT THE STORE 83 

“There was money — yes. I do not remember 
the amount. But I can find the receipt ” 

“ I will not trouble you for that unless it be- 
comes necessary,” said Natalie, hastily, and rising. 

“ I will see Mr. Murch about it.” 

“ It is an oversight on his part if he has not 
communicated with you,” said the secretary, but 
evidently feeling no great interest in the girl’s 
affairs. 

He bowed her out. Natalie felt almost light- 
headed when she was again in the street. 

Why had Mr. Murch replied falsely to her • 
letter? Or, if at that time he had not received 
the wallet, why had he not afterward acknowl- 
edged its receipt and communicated with Mr. Ray- 
mond’s family? 

Natalie wished very much that she had some- 
body at hand with whom she could consult in this 
emergency. She did not know what would be best 
to do next. 

It was too late in the day then to seek the offices 
of Favor & Murch. They would be closed before 
she could get to Wall Street. 

And she did not know where either Mr. Favor 
or Mr. Murch lived. Besides, she almost feared 
to present herself to Mr. Murch — alone. 

She must do her business with old Mr. Favor. 
She determined to write to him first of all. If the 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


84 

junior partner was deliberately trying to injure the 
Raymonds by withholding the wallet and money 
her father had sent to New York, Natalie was wise 
enough to see that she must go about the task of 
recovering them with caution. 

She was too much disturbed by the discovery 
she had made to say anything to Laura, or the 
others, about her trip to town. And the very 
next day something happened at the store which 
quite put out of her mind — for the time being — the 
mystery of her father’s wallet. 

Mrs. Granger was a very good customer of 
Kester & Baum ; but she was a rather bad-tempered 
woman, and the clerks all dreaded to see her come 
into the place. Natalie was not the only girl who 
had been “ blown up ” for some real or fancied 
fault. 

That was one of the hardest — and the only 
degrading phase — of this shop life, to Natalie 
Raymond. The selling of goods behind a counter 
is just as pleasant work as any other; but selling to 
ill-bred and mean-spirited people is where the work 
galls. 

Natalie, by this time, had taken practical charge 
of the notion end of the long counter, an older 
clerk being advanced to the charge of the ribbons. 
The former was clearing out boxes and re-arrang- 
ing the shelves one morning, piling the rubbish 


TROUBLE AT THE STORE 85 

upon the end of the counter in readiness for Mark, 
the porter, to take it away. 

Therefore, having her back to the door, Natalie 
did not see or hear Mrs. Granger when she came 
into the store. And by chance the lady came 
straight to the notion counter. 

She stood there a moment unobserved by either 
Natalie or the girl at the ribbons. Natalie sud- 
denly heard a sharp rapping on the counter and 
turned to see Mrs. Granger, her face very red, 
rapping smartly with her gold-mesh bag. 

“Can I get any attention in this store; or 
can I not?” she demanded, angrily. “Am I to 
stand here all day waiting on your pleasure, 
Miss?” 

Now, Mrs. Granger knew Natalie Raymond 
quite as well as she did any other of her son’s 
schoolmates. Natalie had been frequently at the 
Grangers’ house — one by no means as handsome 
as the Hurleys’. 

Indeed, before the misfortune that had fallen 
upon the Raymonds, and the girl had been obliged 
to come to Kester & Baum’s as a “ common 
clerk,” Mrs. Granger had been very gracious to 
Natalie. For, like most of the other boys at the 
high school. Bob Granger admired Natalie Ray- 
mond, and his mother had seemed to approve 
of her. 


86 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


The lady’s attitude was now, however, neither 
admiring nor gentle. She asked her question in 
the most overbearing way possible. But Natalie 
merely replied : 

“ I beg your pardon, Mrs. Granger. What can 
I show you? ” 

The lady told her in a snappish way, paid for 
her purchases, and went off to some other counter. 

“ Dat dame’s a loo-loo bird, ain’t she?” growled 
Mark, the porter, who had observed it all. “ I’d 
give her as good as she sent, I would.’ 

“ And lose a good customer — and my own 
job? ” asked Natalie, with a laugh, and went back 
to her re-arrangement of the shelves, while the 
porter swept the accumulated rubbish into his cart 
and wheeled it on to the next counter. 

Suddenly Natalie was disturbed again — and this 
time in good earnest. She heard Mrs. Granger 
shouting half-way across the store. Old Mr. 
Kester came on a dog-trot from his office, 
too. 

“ My bag I I know I left it on that girl’s coun- 
ter!” exclaimed the excited woman, and in a mo- 
ment both Mrs. Granger and Mr. Kester were 
before Natalie, glaring at her. 

“What — what is it?” gasped the girl, really 
frightened. 

“ My bag 1 ” exclaimed Mrs. Granger. 


TROUBLE AT THE STORE 87 

“ De lady’s bag, Miss Nat’lie,” repeated Mr. 
Kester. “ Surely you haf seen it — yes ? ” 

“ I saw it when Mrs. Granger paid me,” said 
Natalie, slowly. “ I have not seen it since.” 

The woman’s red face and blazing eyes were 
no pleasant spectacle. Natalie’s heart leaped in 
her bosom; she saw that Mrs. Granger did not 
believe her. 


CHAPTER X 


UNDER A CLOUD 

“ You see, ” the woman said, turning to Mr. 
Kester, “ she remembers the bag well enough.” 

“ I think,” said Natalie, trying to quell her ner- 
vousness, “ that every clerk in the store knows that 
bag. Madam.” 

“ Impudence! ” ejaculated Mrs. Granger, flash- 
ing back at the girl. “ What have you done with 
it?” 

“Mrs. Gr-r-ranger! I peg!” gasped the old 
Hebrew, clasping his hands. “ Don’dt say sugch 
t’ings for vitch you will pe sorry ” 

“ Do you mean to stand up for this impudent 
girl?” demanded Mrs. Granger, whirling on him 
again. “There was more than two hundred dol- 
lars in that bag.” 

Then Mr. Kester did a very brave and fine 
thing. He stepped quickly around the end of the 
counter, seized Natalie’s hand, and bowed with 
old-fashioned courtesy to the irate customer. 

“ Madam,” he said, slowly, and in a low voice, 
“ I vould tr-r-rust Mees Nat’lie mit mein all — mit 


88 


UNDER A CLOUD 89 

mein all ! If she say she has not de pag seen, den 
she has not de pag seen.” 

“ You are insufferable, Mr. Kesterl ” exclaimed 
the customer, her eyes blazing. “ I shall go im- 
mediately to my husband, and I know that he will 
bring the police into your shop.” 

Mr. Granger was one of the city commissioners 
of police — a very important man politically. But 
the old store-keeper was not to be shaken. 

“ De bolice may tur-r-rn mein shop oudt — idt 
iss de same. Mees Nat’lie couldt nodt pe tempted 
py any sum of money ” 

“ And those Raymonds owing everybody, and 
nobody but this girl to support them? ” cried Mrs. 
Granger, with a scornful laugh. “Why! the case 
is plain — plain ! Search the girl, Mr. Kester, and 
you will likely find my bag.” 

“ No, Madam. I will not have her searched — 
no ! ” exclaimed the old gentleman, firmly. 

But Natalie had clutched her courage now with 
both hands. 

“ Let me be searched, Mr. Kester,” she gasped. 
“ It is nothing — I do not mind. And it will save 
you trouble ” 

“ Mrs. Granger can make me no tr-r-rouble,” 
he said, grandly. “ I will search mein store for 
her — from cellar to rooftree — yes! But mein 
clerks I vill nodt search.” 


90 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


“This is too much!” cried the exasperated 
woman. “ I shall go to my husband immedi- 
ately,” and she swept out of the store. 

But it must have been that Mr. Granger was of 
a more equable temper than his wife. No police- 
man came to the store, and Natalie wiped her eyes 
and went about her work as usual. 

Old Mr. Kester gave her a confidential nod 
every time he passed the counter, and the other 
girls declared “ it was a mean shame ” and said 
uncomplimentary things about Mrs. Granger. 

The fact remained, however, that the girl was 
under a cloud, and she felt so badly about it that 
she could not eat the bit of luncheon she had 
brought with her, but spent most of her luncheon 
half-hour on her knees behind the notion counter 
searching every cranny for the lost bag. 

“ She never left it here at all,” declared Sadie 
Polk. “ She dropped it in some other part of the 
store. That’s what she did.” 

“ But everybody’s looking for it,” replied Nata- 
lie, sighing. “ It doesn’t seem as though it could 
disappear so utterly — unless some person really 
was tempted and — and took it.” 

“ And that could easily be, too,” declared Sadie, 
who was at the ribbons, and Natalie’s nearest 
neighbor. “ Some customer might have taken it. 
Don’t you worry, Nat.” 


UNDER A CLOUD 


91 


“ But I cannot help worrying. Mr. Kester is 
just as good as he can be; but the Grangers will 
make trouble for him — they are that kind.” . 

The day passed very unhappily for Natalie, and 
she went home at night feeling that everybody she 
met who knew her must have heard of the loss of 
Mrs. Granger’s bag, and be doubtful whether she 
was an honest girl or not. 

More than Mrs. Granger, she knew, would 
think as Mrs. Granger did. It was true that she 
could not keep the family bills paid up and that 
what she earned was not sufficient to support the 
family in comfort. The idea that she had been 
tempted by the wealthy woman’s bag, and its con- 
tents, might not seem so preposterous to other folk. 

And she had to turn into her own yard briskly, 
and speak cheerfully to the children, and kiss them 
all round, and run up to mother’s room with a 
light step, and appear to be as light-hearted and 
tranquil as ever — Ah ! this was the hard part of 
living which Natalie had to endure. 

For, in the depths of her heart, the thought of 
her father and the mystery of his absence took 
precedence over every other thing. Her mother’s 
illness had become an ordinary affair even before 
the loss of the Sakonnet, and her father had always 
borne his share of that burden. 

But now it was for Natalie alone to bear every- 


92 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


thing. Laura was too light-hearted and thought- 
less to shoulder much. She did what she was 
told — and usually without complaint; but it was 
the oldest of the four who must plan, and scheme, 
and turn over and over in her mind every problem 
that came up. 

Natalie had written letters to the captain of the 
lost steamship, to the first mate, to the purser and 
to the owners. 

All these letters breathed the same desire — that 
the men might remember something regarding the 
missing man. She repeated Mr. Middler’s story 
of what Mr. Raymond was doing aboard the sink- 
ing ship when he and his wife were put into the 
Naidds boat. She hoped that some one of the 
Sakonnefs crew might remember some incident 
that would help to trace her father. 

But one after the other she received answers to 
these letters ; and nobody could remember a thing, 
save that Mr. Raymond was upon the ill-fated 
boat. Neither the first officer, nor the purser, re- 
membered him in their boats. 

In the darkness and storm, however, when the 
Eldorado had picked up so many of the sinking 
ship’s passengers, from boats and rafts, he might 
easily have been knocked overboard, and the acci- 
dent be unnoticed in the general confusion. 

Indeed, this was the final decision of all who had 


UNDER A CLOUD 


93 

had a part in the unfortunate wreck. Their letters 
brought anything but hope to Natalie’s mind. 

And yet she could not believe that her father 
was gone forever ! 

She said nothing encouraging to Laura and the 
others about their father’s return ; yet in her secret 
soul Natalie did not believe that he was drowned. 

“The milkman asked for his money this noon 
when he came around, Nat,” said Laura, more 
quietly than usual, when the little girls had gone to 
bed. “ He — he looked so queer when I said that 
we didn’t have it, that I am afraid he won’t bring 
the milk to-morrow.” 

“ Did you tell him / was settling the accounts 
now — and that I was working?” asked Natalie, 
hastily, and with much more confidence than she 
really felt. 

“ Oh, yes; but it did not seem to — to convince 
him,” Laura replied, slowly. 

“Not convince him ! Well — and that’s no won- 
der,” said the oldest of four, sadly. “ I guess 
he knows just about how far my wages at Kester 
& Baum’s will go toward paying all our bills.” 

“ But Lucille — and Mummy-kins — must have 
their milk,” said Laura. 

“ Yes. But you and Rose and I must be con- 
tent to use the canned milk — and very little of 
that — in our tea and coffee. Tell him one quart a 


94 the oldest of FOUR 

day hereafter, and I will pay him out of this week’s 
wages.” 

The milk bill was four dollars. Natalie knew 
very well that she could not afford to pay out two- 
thirds of her week’s wage to one tradesman. It 
would never do. 

Before starting for the store the next morning, 
Natalie hovered over the little jewel box that her 
father had given her on her twelfth birthday. 
From time to time, he or her mother had made her 
little presents of trinkets so dear to a girl’s heart. 

They were not expensive jewels; but such as 
they were, they were good. For instance, the 
pretty fleur-de-lis pin which had come to her the 
very last Christmas was set with real diamond 
chips. Her father had paid at least twenty dollars 
for it, and she never wore it save on great 
occasions. 

Now she whipped it out of the box, after a 
little hesitation, and hid it, cotton-wool and all, in 
her pocket. She carried it to the store with her, 
and all the forenoon the remembrance of it, and 
what she felt she must do with it, shared with the 
trouble over Mrs. Granger’s lost bag the thoughts 
that shuttled back and forth in her mind. 

Neither Mr. Kester nor Mr. Baum said a 
word to her regarding Mrs. Granger’s loss; but 
of course the clerks were still full of the matter. 


UNDER A CLOUD 


95 

and Natalie had to listen to a great deal that she 
would have just as lief missed. 

Not that one of her fellow-clerks intimated that 
she had been guilty. They all blamed the cus- 
tomer. If the bag had been stolen, it was done by 
somebody who had also been buying in the store. 

And with all this was the thought of the little 
pin her father had given to her and what she must 
do with it. To maintain the family’s independ- 
ence, keep up a certain appearance before their old 
neighbors and friends, and to pay a just debt, the 
young girl spurred herself to do something which 
— for a person of her bringing up and home asso- 
cations — seemed more galling to her pride than 
anything which had thus far confronted her. 

When it came her time to go for lunch she did 
not open the packet she had brought from home as 
usual; but she put on her hat, removed her black 
apron and sleeves, and hurried out of the store. 

She had no idea, however, as she hastened into 
another — and meaner — part of the town that a 
young man who had lingered about the store-front 
for an hour or more followed in her footsteps, 
never falling more than half a block behind. 


CHAPTER XI 


AT THE pawnbroker’s 

Natalie knew just what she had to do, and she 
knew how to do it. For the idea was no sudden 
thought. All these weeks she had merely been 
staving off the time when she would have to stoop 
to do that which seems one of the sharpest stabs 
of poverty. 

To the poor who cannot beg, but who may have 
trinkets or valuables upon which money may be 
raised, the goal of the pawnshop is just as sure as 
the grave itself. 

She had sent out manuscripts until she dared 
spend no more money for stamps and envelopes. 
And all that had thus far come to her from these 
attempts were the two poor little checks. 

She had nothing she might sell and thus raise 
money for their needs. She could not, of course, 
without her mother’s signature increase the mort- 
gage on their humble home; and Mrs. Raymond 
could not have her mind disturbed by such matters. 

So the pledging of her own little trinkets seemed 
the only way. And that milkman must be satisfied ! 

The hard thing which had been in her mind for 
96 


AT THE PAWNBROKER’S 


97 


weeks must now be done. She had even passed a 
particular pawnshop after dusk, and noted its 
private entrance, and the fact that this latter was 
around upon a side street, not much frequented. 

Besides, the shop was in a part of the town 
where she was not at all acquainted. So the girl 
hurried there now, hoping that she would meet no 
friend or acquaintance, and suffering in pride al- 
ready because of what she contemplated doing. 

Natalie turned the corner of the street swiftly 
and came to the broker’s side door. It opened at a 
touch, and she whisked in, breathing a little sigh 
of relief that the street had been so empty. 

She had no idea that, as the door behind her 
closed, a young man — in a straw hat with a gay 
band upon it, a natty summer suit, but with square- 
toed, heavy boots and owning a very steady pair of 
gray eyes — came around the corner quickly. 

He halted, amazed without doubt that the girl 
had so quickly disappeared. He favored the entire 
block, up and down, and on both sides, with a 
glance that little escaped. He even looked up at 
the windows on both sides of the street. They 
were all tenement houses of the poorer class. 

Suddenly he espied the three golden balls over 
the narrow door of the pawnbroker’s shop. The 
sight spurred his thought. He nodded, hesitated, 
backed around the corner, and went to the front 


98 THE OLDEST OF FOUR 

door, after lingering a little at one of the two show 
windows. 

Meanwhile Natalie found herself standing in a 
half-lighted, narrow passage, one side of which 
was a board partition. There were little half- 
partitions dividing the passage into stalls, and in 
each stall a window opening into the pawnshop. 

Having screwed her courage to the sticking 
point the girl wasted little time ; yet she stepped up 
to the nearest window timidly. 

A young man — little more than a boy in appear- 
ance — came to the window and asked — perfuncto- 
rily at first : 

“What is it?” 

He held out his hand, well used to the ways of 
the customers who sought the shop. When he 
saw, in the half-darkness, a pretty young girl, he 
became more interested. 

“What is it you wish. Miss?” he repeated, in 
a more cordial tone. 

Natalie placed the little pin in his hand. For 
the moment she could not find her voice. 

But she did not need to. He knew of but one 
reason for anybody bringing a trinket to that win- 
dow. He stepped back, viewing the pin more 
closely under the rays of the electric lamp above his 
head. 

“ How much would you wish on this. Miss?” 


AT THE PAWNBROKER’S 


99 

he asked, finally. Natalie’s pulse had been beating 
like a triphammer. 

Now, the girl had not forced herself to come 
here without knowing well just what she hoped. 
She knew that she must get all that the broker 
would lend, for there were other bills pressing as 
hard — almost — as the milkman’s. 

And — naturally — she had an exalted idea of the 
pin’s worth. To her, it seemed as though no sum 
she might name would be too great for the beauti- 
ful pin that represented her father’s love and 
thoughtfulness. 

But she knew, too, that there must be a set 
value for such a trinket, and likewise that the 
broker would only lend a fraction of that value. 
He must protect himself. 

“ How much? ” repeated the young man. 

“Twelve dollars,” breathed Natalie, softly. 

“ Oh, no. Miss! that is more than the thing is 
worth at retail. And we have to sell our un- 
redeemed pledges through the auction rooms. We 
could not give you half that, even.” 

“Not six dollars! ” gasped the girl, confused 
and trembling. 

The young man spoke to another who was near. 
An older clerk appeared, and Natalie’s clerk held 
out the pin silently. The other looked at it keenly 
and said — to the girl’s surprise : 


100 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


“ P. N.” 

“ You ask altogether too much,” said the 
younger man. “ We could not touch it,” and he 
laid the pin before her on the shelf. 

“ You could not possibly let me have — have 
ten? murmured the girl. 

The older clerk said : 

“ G. R.” 

“ B. R.? ” returned the first one, questioningly. 

“ G. R.” corrected the other, emphatically. 

Natalie saw that the brokers had an enigmatic 
language by which they could discuss both the ob- 
ject offered as a pledge, and the person offering it. 
The older clerk was advising the younger. 

“ You see,” said the latter, gently tapping the 
little pin, “ those are only chip diamonds — and 
they do not sell well. Besides, the pin is old- 
fashioned.” 

‘‘ But — ^but, I will take it out again,” cried 
Natalie, under her breath. 

“ That’s what they all say,” replied the young 
man, grinning. “ Will you talie three dollars on 
it? That is really all we ought to offer.” 

“ Three dollars! ” gasped Natalie, and almost 
burst out crying. 

“ S. O.” spoke the other clerk, from the rear. 

“ What do you really need, Miss? ” 

Natalie swallowed hard — something beside her 


AT THE PAWNBROKER’S 


lOI 


pride. What should she do if she could not even 
get the four dollars due the milkman on this — her 
very best piece of jewelry? 

“ I’ve got to have four dollars,” she declared, 
desperately. 

The clerk shook his head slowly. He was a 
good actor, that young man ! 

“Well,” he said, “we really ought not to do 
it. We’ll lose money by it. Miss, if you don’t take 
the pledge out again. What’s your name and 
address. Miss? Ikey! four dollars on the D. 
pin,” 

Natalie had even thought of the fact that she 
must have some name and address written on the 
ticket. To tell the truth, she had asked Sadie 
Polk and Helena Comfort about these loan shops, 
and both of these girls, through much longer buf- 
feting the world than herself, knew. 

She could not let the honored name of “Ray- 
mond ” appear upon the ticket for the pin, nor the 
address of the little cottage on Vesey Street. She 
said, glibly enoughs 

“ J. Harris, 24 Cullen Street.” 

The young man smiled, though he nodded, and 
repeated it to “ Ikey ” at the desk inside. He 
knew very well that this pretty and neatly dressed 
young lady did not live on Cullen Street. 

But in half a minute the four dollars and the 


102 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


pawn-ticket were thrust into her hand and she could 
go. And she slipped out of the door very quickly, 
hurrying back to the store. 

But she was not followed now. The young man 
with the gray eyes was in the main store of the 
pawnbroker’s. Before the younger clerk could 
wrap up Natalie’s pin, he reached across the coun- 
ter and tapped him on the shoulder. 

“Hul-/o.^'^ said the clerk, questioningly, draw- 
ing back. 

“ What was it she pawned, Izzy? ” queried the 
gray-eyed man. 

“ And what’s that to returned the other. 

The man outside the counter opened the left side 
of his coat so far that the clerk could see the gilded 
shield pinned on the man’s suspender near the arm- 
hole of his waistcoat. 

“What!” ejaculated Izzy, in plain wonder. 
“ Not that young lady? ” 

“ Let’s see it,” ordered the detective. “ Is that 
all?” 

“ Yep.” 

“And she ain’t been here before?” 

“ I betcher she ain’t never been to no shop be- 
fore,” returned the worldly-wise Izzy. 

“Think not, eh?” 

“ You’re barking up the wrong tree. What are 
you looking for? ” 


AT THE PAWNBROKER’S 


103 

“ That gold-mesh the commissioner’s wife says 
she lost.” 

“ And you’re trying to put it up to that young 
lady? Forget it,” said the young broker, with 
disgust. 

“ That’s all right. She may come again. Just 
keep it in your mind — all you fellers — that the gold- 
mesh has got to be found. If it isn’t there’ll be a 
shake-up around headquarters that will set every- 
body on the force to barking.” 

The young man set his straw hat a little more 
firmly on his close-cropped head, and squeaked 
out of the store in his square-toed shoes, into the 
hot August sunshine. 


CHAPTER XII 


WHEN NATALIE AWOKE IN THE NIGHT 

So Natalie satisfied the milkman and Laura was 
not wise enough to wonder where the extra fouf 
dollars came from. The thought of her trip to the 
pawnshop — and that it was only the forerunner of 
similar trips — hurt Natalie cruelly. 

But what could she do ? They had no relatives. 
Both Mr. and Mrs. Raymond had been only chil- 
dren, and their parents were dead. The four girls 
were singularly alone in the world. 

For to friends and acquaintances Natalie could 
not open her heart about their straitened finan- 
cial circumstances; and although Mrs. Granger had 
blurted out what she believed to be the truth re- 
garding their poverty, few there were who even 
suspected that the Raymonds were really in need. 

Perhaps good Mrs. Hackett knew. And in her 
way she did all that anyone could do to help 
Natalie. 

The girl was proud. She could not have borne 
charity, offered as it would be offered. And she 
knew that the very first thing that would be said, 
if the fact of their need became known, was that 
104 


WHEN NATALIE AWOKE 105 

she could not support her mother and younger 
sisters, and that the family had better be di- 
vided. 

Divided! Send Lucille — and perhaps Rose — 
to some institution ? Make Laura — at her age — 
attend school only half-time when fall came, and 
go into a shop for the other half of the day? 

No 1 That was not to be thought of. Natalie 
started out of her sleep in the night, sometimes, 
ridden by the nightmare of that horror. 

She had written a letter to Mr. Favor, the senior 
partner of the firm her father had worked for, but 
had received no answer. Now she wrote again, 
repeating what Mr. Middler’s secretary had 
told her. 

She would have gone to New York and tried to 
see the old gentleman — who, at least, had seemed 
kindly disposed toward her — but she shrank from 
spending the money for the fare, or losing the 
time from her work at the store. 

She saw little of the editor of the Banner these 
days, and there was nobody to encourage her in 
her writing. She dared use no more money for 
stamps and, one after another, her little squibs 
were returned from the domestic magazines, and 
no more were purchased. 

Only from Our Twentieth Century Home she 
did not hear, and it was to the editor of that popu- 


io6 THE OLDEST OF FOUR 

lar magazine she had sent “ The Robbers of the 
Year ” and some juvenile sketches. 

Had she been mistaken after all in her belief 
that by her pen she might find “ a way out ” of 
the jungle of financial trouble they had gotten 
into? 

During the long evenings, while she sat in her 
mother’s room after the other girls had retired, 
Natalie wove many pretty fancies at her desk. 
She wrote much that she dared not send forth, be- 
cause the chance of the articles being accepted 
seemed so hopeless. 

"And then, such experience as she had showed 
her that the brief little pieces of fiction she wove 
would bring, at the best, but small amounts. And 
she needed a big, big sum. 

Somehow she must obtain a large sum of money 
to pay the increasing bills and set the family on its 
feet. This thought bred in her brain an idea that 
finally she began to put upon paper. 

And perhaps, since the world began and people 
have created brain images, the same need has in- 
spired the best in art, in music, and in literature — 
the need of money. 

Great geniuses have worked because starvation 
whipped them to it. The fact that necessity is 
the mother of invention applies to every creative 
art. 


WHEN NATALIE AWOKE 107 

And because Natalie Raymond could not see 
how she was to pay the family’s bills on six dollars 
a week she was inspired to begin a piece of imagi- 
native writing which, she hoped, might bring 
what to her seemed a large sum of money. 

She would write a book! If a publisher would 
print it, he might pay her enough to make their 
way easier for a time, at least. 

And as the thought was born in her mind, an- 
other was born with it. She would not make the 
mistake of the usual young writer, and try to 
write about something of which she knew nothing. 
Mr. Franklin had often warned her against that 
cardinal literary sin. 

What could she better do than put into her story 
experiences which were common to herself and her 
friends — write of struggles and triumphs which 
were not outside the pale of her own under- 
standing? 

And so she began the long story, and the title 
of it was: “ Her Way Out.” 

She wrote slowly, for this was^very different 
from anything she had ever tried before. Sus- 
tained fiction, save by those who have learned the 
technique of it, is no easy task. The ’prentice hand 
usually fails. 

But Natalie had more than a mere talent for 
writing. Of course, this power which had been 


io8 THE OLDEST OF FOUR 

born in the girl was undeveloped as yet; but it was 
growing day by day. 

Rather, night by night For it was at night, 
after all the house was still, and the summer air 
had cooled, that she sat at her desk-table and wrote 
and wrote until arm and hand were both a-wearied ; 
but the inventive part of her brain seemed never 
to weary at all. 

Mr. Franklin’s encouraging words had awak- 
ened in the girl a desire to put upon paper the 
thoughts that crowded her mind. Sometimes they 
were expressed crudely; but almost always she dis- 
covered this to be a fact upon re-reading them, and 
she was not afraid to tear up the fairly written 
sheets and begin again. 

The financial aid her writing had brought her 
had been small enough. Surely it was not the two 
little checks from publishers that encouraged her 
to go on. 

It was something within her that cried out for 
expression. 

Her daily tasks at the dry-goods store satisfied 
none of the longings of Natalie’s soul. And the 
sordid problems of their domestic life were en- 
dured only because it was her duty to her mother 
and the younger girls to grapple with these things 
bravely. 

No, her outward life could not satisfy the 


WHEN NATALIE AWOKE 109 

highly imaginative girl. She had soon begun to live 
two lives — one, the gentle, patient, hard-working 
existence which touched at all points the lives of 
those whom she loved so well; the other was a 
secret life — a dream life, indeed — in which her as- 
sociates were the children of her own fancy — the 
incidents born of her own brain. 

And so, on coming home from the store, and 
going through the round of her evening tasks 
cheerfully, Natalie, when the house was still, 
would creep upstairs and sit down to her desk with 
a sigh of real happiness, and forget all the sordid 
things, and the little and great troubles, while put- 
ting upon the paper the thoughts which seemed 
thronging to the very tip of her pen — waiting, 
eager to be released. 

She thought no more of the accumulating bills 
then; nor of the price of foodstuffs; that Rose had 
stubbed through the toes of her best shoes, and that 
soon, soon she must go to that horrid pawnshop 
again. She forgot the pain and weariness of the 
work at the store — even lost for the time being the 
remembrance of Mrs. Granger’s mesh-bag and the 
cloud that hung over her all the time because of its 
disappearance. 

So, when she finally went to bed, it surely was 
not the cares of the day that were last on her mind. 
Then why did she suddenly, in the middle of one 


no 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


hot night late in August, awake with a sudden 
shock and with a certain thought about the lost 
gold bag recurring again and again in her brain? 

And it was such an insistent thought, and so im- 
portant, that the girl could sleep no more that 
night. She was up earlier than usual, anxious to 
get to the store. 

It was useless to go before a certain hour, she 
knew. Even Mark, the porter, would not be there 
until seven o’clock. And she must have Mr. 
Kester, or Mr. Baum on hand, too, if, as she 
hoped, the thought that had come to her in the 
middle of the night was both a wise and feasible 
one. 


CHAPTER XIII 


LUCK IN TWO PIECES 

Mark, the porter, sweeping the long aisle to 
the front door of Kester & Baum’s store, certainly 
was astonished to see Natalie Raymond’s flower- 
like face pressed close against one of the glass 
panes. 

He dropped his long-handled brush and un- 
locked the door, but opened it only a little way. 

“ Pretty near an hour before youse girls can 
come in. Miss,” he said. 

“ But I’ve got a special reason for coming, 
Mark,” she said, eagerly. 

“ Well, now! did de boss say youse could come 
in at dis hour? ” demanded the porter, doubtfully. 

“ No, Mark.” 

“ Then how am I goin’ to let you in — will you 
tell me thatf^^ he demanded. 

“ Oh, Mark it’s something dreadfully im- 
portant,” said the girl, anxiously. “ Let me in so 
I can telephone to Mr. Kester. I want him down 
here, too.” 

“Ye want the boss down here — and at this 
hour? It’s crazy ye be.” 


Ill 


II2 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


Only a little crazy,” Natalie assured him, 
smiling. ‘‘ Do let me in, Mark.” 

He did so, finally, under protest. But Natalie 
hurried directly to the telephone in the office. 
Mark stood by while she rang up old Mr. 
Kester. 

“What do you want papa for?” a woman’s 
voice demanded. “ He hasn’t his breakfast eaten, 
yet.” 

“ Please tell him it is very important,” said 
Natalie, earnestly. “Nothing has happened here 
to disturb him, yet he is needed very much.” 

Then she turned to the curious Mark. 

“ Did I hear you tell Mr. Kester the men would 
be here to-day to cart away the rubbish and 
papers?” 

“ Sure you did. They’ve begun now,” said the 
porter, in surprise. 

“ Oh! they’ve not begun yet? ” 

“ They’ve got a cart backed into the yard now,” 
said Mark. “Them bins is chock-a-block. It’ll 
take ’em all day to clean ’em out.” 

Natalie started on a run for the back of the 
store. The door was open to the back platform. 
This overlooked the area in which two huge slat 
bins were built, into which Mark shot all the rub- 
bish he swept up in the store. Everything — ashes 
and all — ^went into those bins, saving the wooden 


LUCK IN TWO PIECES 


113 

boxes. Three or four times a year a junk con- 
tractor came and removed the accumulated rub- 
bish. Natalie knew that the bins had not been 
cleaned since she had come to work at the 
store. 

“ Don’t load anything more into your wagon I ” 
the girl called down to the workmen. “ Mr. 
Kester will be here soon and he wants to see you.” 

She took a liberty in saying this; but she was 
very anxious now and it seemed as though she 
scarcely could wait until the senior partner of the 
dry-goods firm arrived. 

Mr. Kester came puffing in by a quarter to 
eight, before any other clerk except Natalie had 
come. 

“ Vass iss? ” demanded the old gentleman. “ I 
expected the store was purned down, yet.” 

“ It’s the rubbish — they’re going to clear out the 
bins to-day, Mr. Kester,” cried Natalie, eagerly. 

“Veil? Veil?” he returned, excitedly. 

“ It struck me In the night. It woke me up 
out of a sound sleep. The morning Mrs. 
Granger lost that horrid purse — — ” 

“ De goldt mesh pag? ” exclaimed Mr. Kester. 
“ Goldt Iss nodt horrid, Nat’lie.” 

But Natalie ignored his comment and hur- 
ried on. 

“ Mark was taking rubbish from my counter. 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


114 

After she had bought of me, he swept a lot 
of stuff into his cart. If she had carelessly 
left her bag there, and it had been covered 


The old gentleman caught at the idea instantly, 
and rumbled forth an exclamation in German. 

“Isn’t it worth trying?” cried Natalie. “I 
will stand there and watch the men sorting the 
rubbish all day. Perhaps we ought to have some- 
body else look, too ” 

“ I will talk to Mr. Granger,” declared Mr. 
Kester. “ You take Mark, Nat’lie, and bot’ of 
you watch. Idt iss a goot chance — yes.” 

Indeed, the idea that the bag had been swept 
into the rubbish and then dumped into the 
bins seemed a good one to them all. The gate 
of this area-way was kept locked, and nobody 
overhauled the rubbish bins until the contractor 
came. 

In an hour the young man with the gay band on 
his straw hat appeared from the police commis- 
sioner’s office. Mr. Kester scarcely left the rub- 
bish bins, either, he was so excited. 

The men loading the wagons used long hooks, 
and they drew the rubbish down to one level, and 
shook it out. Nothing was forked into the 
wagons that was not first examined thoroughly. 

It was after luncheon time when Mr. Granger 


LUCK IN TWO PIECES 


115 

appeared himself. He spoke rather disparag- 
ingly of the project, but even while he was arguing 
with Mr. Kester, Natalie’s tired eyes caught the 
dull glint of metal. 

“ The bag! The bag! ” she shrieked, pointing 
at the chain which appeared from under an ava- 
lanche of rubbish. 

The detective grabbed for it, and held the bag 
up, discolored, but whole. Natalie burst into 
tears and dropped in a weak little heap upon an 
old box near which she had been standing. 

As Mr. Granger sprang forward, the detective 
snapped open the bag, put in his hand, and drew 
forth a roll of banknotes. 

“ Safe as a house, boss,” he said to the commis- 
sioner. “ The money is all there.” 

Mr. Granger took the purse and the money and 
began to count the latter eagerly. The younger 
man turned and dropped a light hand upon Nata- 
lie’s shoulder. 

“ Forget it — forget it. Miss ! ” he advised, in a 
confidential tone. “ That shows we were on the 
wrong track all the time. You’re all right — all 
right, I say ! ” 

This rough comfort perhaps aided Natalie in 
controlling her sobs. And when Mr. Kester told 
her to come up into the office, she wiped her eyes 
and followed him. 


ii6 THE OLDEST OF FOUR 

Of course, she had lost more than half a day’s 
time; but she was glad she had done so. The 
cloud which had overshadowed her so long at the 
store was lifted. She did not fear Mrs. Granger’s 
sharp tongue now. 

The police commissioner, with the bag in his 
hand, followed them into the office. 

“ A most regrettable incident,” he said, over 
and over again. But when he sat down and began 
fumbling with the bills, he added : 

“ Without this young lady we might not have 
found the bag at all, I presume, Mr. Kester? ” 

“ It was her idea, Misder Granger,” declared 
the old gentleman. 

“And she thought of it just in time — ^just in 
time,” returned the other. “ Well — it seems al- 
lowable — yes — it seems as though some little thing 
to reward her >” 

He had drawn forth a five-dollar note. Old 
Mr. Kester’s eyes flashed. 

“No, sir! No, sir!” he exclaimed. “We 
couldt not allow one of our clerks to accept pay 
for such a t’ing — no, sir. You haf de purse an’ 
de money foundt. Idt iss enough,” and he waved 
his fat hand as though only too glad to get rid of 
the police commissioner. 

The latter put away the five-dollar bill, evi- 
dently nothing loath. Then he took his hat and 


LUCK IN TWO PIECES 


111 

without another word of thanks to either Mr. 
Kester or Natalie walked out of the office. 

“Veil!” snarled the old gentleman. “ Dere 
goes it a mean man — yes? Fife tollars for findin’ 
de pag undt two hunder’ tollar. Ach! idt iss 
mean some beaples iss porn; ain’dt idt?” 

“ I — I don’t care,” sobbed Natalie, “ as long as 
the bag and money are all right.” 

“ Veil, you shall lose nodding,” declared Mr. 
Kester, and pulled a ten-dollar bill from his own 
pocket and handed it to her quickly. “ Idt iss 
vorth that for suspicion to be lifted from the 
whole store — ^yes? ” 

“Oh, Mr. Kester! how kind you are,” cried 
Natalie, weeping again. 

For now that the nervous strain was over the 
girl felt as though she had endured to the limit of 
her strength. She was trembling, and could not 
control her sobs. 

“ There, there, Mees Nat’lie,” urged the old 
gentleman. “ You go oudt undt take a valk in de 
air. You needt nodt to come back de whole day. 
I will make idt right mit Mr. Baum. To- 
morrow iss anudder day yet, undt you vill feel 
petter.” 

The advice was good and kindly meant, and 
Natalie took it. But after she had walked as far as 
the Hill Park at the end of High Street she re- 


ii8 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


membered so many things that she might do if 
she were at home this afternoon that she turned 
hasty steps in the direction of the Vesey Street 
cottage. 

When she came home she found Mose with Jim 
Hurley’s wheel-chair in the yard, and Jim himself 
sitting beside Laura on the back steps. Rose and 
Lucille were playing house nearby. 

For pity’s sake ! ” exclaimed Laura, springing 
up. “What is it?” 

“You’re not sick, are you, Natalie?” de- 
manded Jim, quite as eagerly. 

“ Oh, no. I’m all right,” said Natalie, hap- 
pily. “ I’m Tighter than usual, in fact.” 

“ Then they haven’t bounced you at that old 
store? ” demanded Laura, with evident disappoint- 
ment. 

“ No, indeedy I ” 

“ I wish they would,” her sister declared, 
gloomily. 

“I’d like to know what we’d do thenf^* the 
oldest of the four cried. 

“ There’d be some way made,” Jim said, evi- 
dently feeling the same as Laura. 

“ Everybody’s talking about your working 
there,” said Laura. 

“ They cannot say anything very bad — and be 
honest,” returned Natalie, scornfully. 


LUCK IN TWO PIECES 


119 

“ It isn’t what is expected of you, Natalie,” said 
Jim. “ Even mother says that/^ 

She turned on them then and a little fire burned 
in either cheek. 

“I’d like to know what really is expected of 
Natalie Raymond? Is she to sit down, and fold 
her hands, and let everything go to the eternal 
bow-wows ? 

“ I am doing the first thing that came to hand — 
the only job I could get or was fitted for. They all 
praised my valedictory when I read it, yet, because 
I am putting the silly thing into practise, every- 
body is opposed. 

“ And not one of you can suggest another prac- 
tical thing for me to do. You all make me 
tired!” 

And it must be confessed that Natalie went into 
the house in something of a temper. But every- 
body was so silly. And they didn’t have a single 
practical suggestion to offer. 

She peeped into her mother’s room. Mrs. Ray- 
mond was sleeping. So she went to her own room 
to change her dress for something she could better 
work around the house in. 

And there on her table lay a letter — one of 
those flat letters, with a business card in the corner, 
that she had already learned to look forward to 
with delightful expectancy. 


120 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


She grabbed it up, with almost a shout of ex- 
ultation. The card in the corner read : Our 
Twentieth Century Home** 

She slit the flap of the envelope carefully with 
her paper cutter. Then she opened it and shook 
out the contents upon her desk-blotter. 

A little, narrow slip of paper was with the 
letter. She could not be mistaken, and pounced 
upon it. 

The check was for twenty-five dollars ! 

Natalie held it between thumb and finger for a 
full minute, staring at the figures which would 
dance before her eyes. 

“ Oh! you beautiful thing! ” she cried, and then 
sank slowly into her chair, with her elbows on the 
table. 

She really kissed the slip of paper that meant so 
much to her. And then, with a sudden rush of 
tears and thankfulness, she dropped her head upon 
her folded arms and sobbed. 

Twenty-five dollars would do so much for them. 
Twenty-five dollars and ten dollars made thirty- 
five ! 

“ I can pay this, and that, and the other,” Nata- 
lie’s anxious thought ticked off their needs with 
precision. 

Suddenly she bethought her that she did not 


LUCK IN TWO PIECES 


I2I 


yet know what the check was for. She picked up 
the letter and read as follows : * 

“ Miss Natalie Raymond, 

“32 Vesey Street, Burlingboro. 

“ Dear Miss Raymond : 

“ I have liked your little story, ‘ The Robbers 
of the Year,’ so much (for which you will find 
our check enclosed for $25) that I would like to 
see more of your work. I note that you have sub- 
mitted some brief juvenile articles, and take pleas- 
ure in saying that I believe you have a style and 
method of expression that would please our young 
readers. I have had in mind the establishment of 
a certain kind of juvenile department in Our Twen- 
tieth Century that I believe would appeal to you. 
Will you come in and see me about this, providing 
you are willing to consider an associate editorship, 
or ‘department editorship,’ as we call it? At 
your own convenience. 

“ Respectfully yours, 

“ Our Twentieth Century Home.” 

The girl read the letter through twice before she 
fully realized what it meant. The check had been 
a Godsend ; but this letter was something more — 
something that promised greater things ! 

A letter from a real editor! And he spoke 


122 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


highly of her work, and wanted more of it — more 
stories like “The Robbers of the Year.’’ And, 
in addition, there was a chance for her to obtain 
some regular work which carried with it, of course, 
a regular salary. 

Suppose the department work he spoke of would 
bring her in as much — or more — money as she re- 
ceived now from Kester & Baum? Or, suppose 
it was work which, if it paid less, she might do 
nights and still keep her place in the dry-goods 
store ? 

The summer had been hard on her. She had 
grown thin and hollow-eyed. After her hard 
work at school during the spring, this steady, plod- 
ding effort through the summer had come near to 
breaking down Natalie’s naturally buoyant health. 

And suppose here was the way out? 

She felt that it was her fate to write. Her pen 
was the wand with which she could transform 
thoughts into dollars. 

Natalie wanted to tell somebody of her good 
fortune ; and yet she wished to keep it secret from 
mother and the girls for a bit. She went to the 
bathroom, dabbed her eyes and cheeks with cool 
water, and then put on her hat and gloves once 
more and took letter, check and all, away with her. 

Jim Hurley was hobbling up and down the walk 
in the back garden beside Laura, and both were so 


LUCK IN TWO PIECES 


123 


much interested in their conversation that they did 
not see Natalie when she hurried away from the 
house again. 

It was to her literary godfather,” Mr. Frank- 
lin, the kindly editor of the Burlingboro Banner^ 
that she made her way so quickly. 

“Shall I go? Do you think I can do what 
they want done, Mr. Franklin?” cried the girl, 
eagerly. 

“Do it? Of course you can! Brave girl! 
Smart girl ! ” exclaimed the editor, in delight. “ I 
knew it was in you, child. You’ll make a big hit 
some day. You’re born to be a writer — not to sell 
notions over Kester & Baum’s counter.” 


CHAPTER XIV 


MR. VAN WEIR 

The money in her purse made Natalie feel 
really rich. Of course it cost nearly a dollar every 
time she went to New York; but she felt that this 
letter from the editor of Our Twentieth Century 
Home must be answered in person. 

It was true, however, that before she reached 
the Vesey Street cottage again that evening much 
of the thirty-five dollars had gone to pay urgent 
bills. But the payment of those bills had been a 
delight. 

“ I’ll be so, so happy,” declared Natalie, to her- 
self, “ if I ever get to that point where I won’t 
have to run a single bill! It — ^it will be just 
heavenly 1 ” 

She felt so rich, indeed, that she took home a 
little treat for the children, and for Mummy-kins. 
The four girls grouped about their mother’s couch 
in the gloaming (for Mrs. Raymond was out of 
bed a part of the time now) eating ice cream and 
nibbling wafers, chattered like magpies over Nata- 
lie’s good fortune. 

“ I don’t see how you have got along as you 
124 


MR. VAN WEIR 


125 

have, child,” Mrs. Raymond said, shaking her 
head. “You must be horribly in debt.” ' 

“No, no — very little in debt at all. And if 
I get many more twenty-five-dollar checks for 
stories, I shall soon have a bank account,” and 
Natalie laughed delightedly. 

“ Then it won’t matter so much if I do stub out 
my shoes? ” asked Rose, gravely. 

“ I don’t know about that,” returned the oldest 
of the four, gaily, and pinching Rose’s plump 
cheek. “ I believe we’ll have to let you and Lu- 
cille run barefoot so as to save shoe-leather.” 

“ Oh, but then we’ll wear our feets out! ” de- 
clared Lucille, her eyes round with wonder. 

Natalie considered it well to remain away from 
the store the next day, and to see the editor in 
New York at once. If nothing came of the inter- 
view, or if it were best to settle down again to the 
store work, it was better to know the worst — or the 
best — without breaking into the store time later. 

“ Perhaps this editor will think I am awfully 
hungry for the job,” Natalie told Laura and Jim, 
who came over to congratulate her. “ And I am. 
I never wanted anything so much in my life as I do 
this work.” 

“ Well, for goodness’ sake ! I should hope so,” 
Jim declared. “ When you’ve been tied to that 
old notion counter. I only hope he offers you an 


126 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


awfully nice job, Nat — as long as you are so deter- 
mined to work.” 

“ Why, you make me laugh. Jimmy-boy,” re- 
turned Natalie, with her elder sisterly air. “ I am 
determined to eat — and there never was a Ray- 
mond with a butterfly appetite.” 

She took an early train to New York and, fear- 
ing that the editor of the magazine would not yet 
be in his office, she went to Wall Street to try and 
see Mr. Favor. 

But the boy in the outer office assured her that 
the senior partner of Favor & Murch had gone 
away a month before and had not yet returned. 
He was ill and the boy understood that he was 
taking no active part in the management of the 
firm. 

Much as she shrank from doing so, Natalie 
thought it her duty, these being the circumstances, 
to send her name in to Mr. Murch. She must 
plead with him about the matter of her father’s 
wallet. 

Surely, if it had been put carelessly in some 
pigeonhole of Mr. Murch’s desk, he would re- 
member it now, and give it to her. And even if 
the money her father had sent home to them at 
the time of the wreck was a very little sum, it 
would surely “ come in handy.” 

But Mr. Murch returned her card by the boy, 


MR. VAN WEIR 


127 

sending out word that he was too busy to see her. 
And the boy added that it would be no use for her 
to wait. 

“ The boss’ll be jest as busy as he is now all 
day,” he said, with a grin. 

Somehow the young girl felt that the boy was 
laughing at her. She could not understand why 
Mr. Murch refused to see her. 

But, worried as she was by this puzzlement, she 
put it out of her mind as she neared the office of 
Our Twentieth Century Home, just before noon. 
It was situated in one of the tallest office buildings 
on Madison Square. 

As she went up in the elevator, Natalie began to 
feel some little nervousness. And the wait in the 
anteroom of the magazine office did not discourage 
the beating of the girl’s heart. 

It seemed a busy place. The girl at the desk 
telephoned to the managing editor’s private office 
for her, and repeated Natalie’s name to him over 
the wire. 

There were several other people waiting. One 
was a middle-aged woman with rather frowsy hair, 
the fingers of whose gloves were worn to holes. 
She wore spectacles, and read a voluminous manu- 
script under the drop light at the centre-table. 

Suddenly there came from the inner corridor a 
tall, well set-up young man — broad-shouldered. 


128 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


smoothly shaven — an almost boyish face, indeed; 
Natalie, at first glance, saw that he had a merry 
brown eye and a kind face despite his very square 
jaw. His chin was deeply cleft and — if the truth 
must be told — he had a most generously formed 
pair of ears ! 

“Ah! Mr. Van Weir! ” exclaimed the frowsy 
lady, jumping up, quickly. “ I was hoping to see 
you. I have something here — and from a new 
writer — that I believe you can’t afford to 
miss ” 

“ Now, Miss Parling, I am sorry to say I am very 
busy this morning,” replied the young man, wav- 
ing away the manuscript which, Natalie saw, must 
have already seen 'hard usage in many publishers’ 
offices. 

“ But this is something very special,” declared 
Miss Parling. “ I couldn’t let you miss it.” 

“ Why it looks as bulky as a three-volume 
novel,” the young man declared. 

“ Ah ! But such a novel ” 

“ You agents are all alike. Miss Parling. You 
always bring me what I don't want. I have no 
need of a novel for a year to come.” 

“ But — now, do, Mr. Van Weir ” 

“ Let our readers have it. They will report 
upon it,” said the young man, and Natalie saw that 
he could be brusk if it were necessary. 


MR. VAN WEIR 


129 


He swung around quickly and glanced over the 
other waiting people. Then he startled Natalie 
by saying : 

“Miss Raymond! Is Miss Raymond here?” 

Natalie rose timidly. She was a little to one 
side of the big young man and he did not at first 
see her. 

“ I thought you said Miss Raymond wished to 
see me?” he said, wheeling upon the girl at the 
desk. 

Then he came face to face with Natalie. 

“ not Miss Raymond?” he exclaimed. 

Natalie’s heart sank. Her voice trembled when 
she spoke and was so low that she was ashamed of 
herself I Evidently her youthfulness had sur- 
prised him. 

“ Not Miss Natalie Raymond? ” repeated Mr. 
Van Weir. 

The girl merely nodded. 

“ And you wrote that perfectly bully story — • 
‘ The Robbers of the Year? ’ ” demanded Mr. Van 
Weir, seizing her hand quickly. “ Why 1 you’re a 
pnd — a ^nd! I’ve told our folks so. And — and 
you’re just a — a young lady out of school, I’ll be 
bound? ” 

Natalie did not know what to say. Through a 
mist she saw the frowsy woman looking at her 


130 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


with a cold, calculating gaze. And everybody 
else in the room was interested. 

“ Come into my office,” said Mr. Van Weir, 
like a great boy, scarcely letting go of her hand. 
“ We can talk there. Why, this is just bully! A 
girl who can turn out stuff like ‘ The Robbers of 
the Year ’ has got it in her to write — sure ! Come 
in. Miss Raymond ! ” and he urged her into a big, 
well-furnished office, and closed the door with his 
foot. 

“ Sit down. Miss Raymond — do,” he said, plac- 
ing a chair for her and then, when she was seated, 
dropping into his own big revolving chair before 
the mahogany desk-table. 

“Now, tell me all about it!” cried Mr. Van 
Weir, in his hearty way. “Did you just have to 
write? ” 

Natalie was almost startled. How could this 
pleasant young man suspect her circumstances? 
She thought that she looked particularly well in 
this dress, even if it was of last spring’s fashion. 
She had kept it nice for state occasions. 

“ Nobody but a born writer — and a lover of the 
game, I am sure — could have put that very pretty 
story of yours down on paper.” 

Natalie understood, then. He meant did she 
have to write because the thoughts crowded her 
brain, and must be expressed? 




iiifrriiTHwi 


C i 

I 


AM SIXTEEN, ” ADMITTED NATALIE, TIMIDLY. 

Page 131. 



MR. VAN WEIR 


./ 


I3I 

“ I suppose that is so — in a sense,” she said, 
thoughtfully. “ At any rate, the story you were 
kind enough to buy ‘ wrote itself ’ in its first form. 
But I worked over it a good deal before it reached 
you.” 

“ That’s all right. The germ of the idea was 
involuntary, however — you did not have to force 
it. I could tell,” he declared. 

“ And, tell me ! How long have you been 
writing — for the press, I mean? ” 

“ Mr. t'ranklin, cf the Banner, has been print- 
ing my pieces for more than a year,” explained 
Natalie. 

“ Your local paper? ” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ Good practise ! , Bully good practise,” he de- 
clared, and the girl began to see that he was not such 
a very young man, after all. And yet, he was one 
of those men who would always be boyish — always 
enthusiastic — always expecting, and therefore get- 
ting, the very best out of life. 

“ But you’re young. Miss Raymond,” he said, 
suddenly. 

“ I am sixteen,” admitted Natalie, timidly. 

“ And just out of school ? ” 

” I graduated from the Burlingboro High 
last June.” 

“ Going to college? ” he asked her, quickly. 


132 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


“ Oh, no ! That would be impossible.” 

“Forget that word!” he exclaimed, with his 
jolly laugh. “ Like ‘ can’t ’, they’ve agreed to 
cut it out of all the standard dictionaries.” 

“ I am afraid,” said Natalie, with a grave smile, 
“ that it is like the word ‘ fail ’ which they tell us 
is not to be found in Youth’s Lexicon; yet I guess 
most everybody finds it there just the same 1 ” 

“ Good 1 A hit — a palpable hit I ” chuckled the 
editor. “ But a college course would help.” 

“ I am afraid I cannot be helped that way,” 
Natalie told him, shaking her head. “ There are 

needs at home Why, Mr. Van Weir! I am 

working behind the notion counter of one of our 
local dry-goods stores.” 

She thought this would startle him — and it did. 
He leaned forward, a hand on either knee, and 
stared at her hard. 

“ Do you mean it, Miss Raymond? ” he asked. 

“Yes, sir. My father was lost when the Sakon- 
net sank last June 

“ You’re not the daughter of that poor man — ■ 
the single missing passenger of the Sakonnetf ” 

“ Yes, sir. I am his oldest daughter — the old- 
est of four. And my mother is an invalid. We 
were left in — in rather straitened circumstances, 
Mr. Van Weir. It has been very necessary that I 
should earn money.” 


MR. VAN WEIR 


133 


“Well, well! ” he said, shaking his head. “I 
couldn’t imagine the author of ‘ The Robbers of 
the Year’ serving behind a — a — notion counter, 
did you say? ” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ I can’t imagine it.” 

“And cooking at home — and washing dishes — 
and scrubbing floors,” said Natalie, with a sudden 
little laugh, for his face did look funny. “ Genius 
at the washtub. The Muse of Literature sweep- 
ing the front hall.” 

He shouted at that. 

“ You’re all right. Miss Raymond! I admit I 
had woven quite a different fancy about you — as 
the author of that pretty little story, mind! I 
thought you would be a little, frail, timid maiden- 
lady of uncertain years, with graying hair and a 
little, old-fashioned brooch at your throat, and a 
shabby black dress, perhaps.” 

Natalie clasped her hands, her eyes dancing. 

“ That would be just lovely! ” she cried. “ I’d 
like to fill that picture, Mr. Van Weir; but I fall 
so far short of it. But it would be — just — too — 
sweet ” 

Her voice fell away thoughtfully. His own 
sharp eyes watched her shrewdly. 

“What is it? What’s the idea. Miss Ray- 
mond? ” he asked. 


134 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


‘‘ It is an idea, I believe. And such a good one. 
I believe it would make another story.” 

“ I knew it ! ” cried the editor, smiting his knee. 
“ With such a little lady in it, and such another 
fellow as I am? ” 

She flushed quickly at that question, for he had 
guessed correctly. 

“ Good ! Don’t mind me. I don’t mind if 
you put me in a story. Only let Our Twentieth 
Century have the first chance at it.” 

And it was there and then that the germ of 
“Partners in Crime” came into Natalie’s mind, 
took form and shape, and was finally developed 
into her second successful short story. 


CHAPTER XV 


THE BORROWED CHAPERON 

Harvey Van Weir was the very nicest young 
man that Natalie had ever met. She told herself 
that several times during this interview. 

For he was young, after all. Years do not al- 
ways make a person old, and as has been pointed 
out years would never make Harvey Van Weir 
aged. 

The conversation so far had not touched upon 
the matter which had brought Natalie to town. It 
was the editor of Our Twentieth Century Home 
himself who brought the subject to the fore. 

“ Now, I’ve read your brief sketches which you 
submitted,” Mr. Van Weir said. “ We have 
never been satisfied with our children’s pages. 
There has not been in them the originality which, 
I flatter myself, marks the adult fiction pages of 
Our Twentieth Century** 

‘‘ Your sketches, while very good, are not at all 
what I want.” 

Natalie’s face fell at this, but he only smiled, 
and shook his head. 

You are not yet long enough at the game to 
135 


136 THE OLDEST OF FOUR 

put on the whole armor,” and he laughed. “You 
must learn to take awful set-backs, the carping 
criticism born of the pangs of indigestion, and the 
like. Let not your features show how deep the 
scourge of the critic cuts.” 

“ Oh, I couldn’t bear to have the little things I 
write harshly treated,” sighed Natalie. 

“ You’ll get over that. You’ll have to. Sharp 
are the wounds of the friendly editor. Bear up 
and be prepared. Miss Raymond. He will flay 
thee alive — cut to the very bone.” 

“ I hope not! ” she cried, shaking her head. 

“And yet, that is the way good magazines are 
made. How many articles, and stories, do you 
suppose, appear to the reader’s eye as they come, 
at first, from the author’s pen?” 

Natalie remembered the changes she had made, 
at Mr. Franklin’s advice, in “ The Robbers of the 
Year,” and shook her head. 

“ Mighty few. What, do you suppose, an 
editor is for?” 

“ I have heard it said,” she replied, smiling, 
“ that he was a dispensation of Providence.” 

Mr. Van Weir laughed at this — one of his jolly, 
whole-souled laughs. 

“ I guess he is. He is the buffer between the 
public and a lot of very raw work. Not that I 
wish to intimate that yours is raw, Miss Raymond. 


THE BORROWED CHAPERON 137 

'You have been to school to a good master — I can 
see that. Your Mr. Franklin has shown you how 
to round off the sharp edges to a degree. 

“ Not that these sketches you have submitted 
are not quite good enough to be printed,” he re- 
peated, wagging an index finger before her. “ But 
they are not what I want. You have it in you, how- 
ever, to write just what I want, I feel sure.” 

“ Oh, Mr. Van Weir ! ” she returned. “ I hope 
you are not mistaken. I will truly do my best.” 

‘‘ Then you are not enamored of selling notions 
behind the counter?” he questioned, with sudden 
roguishness in his eyes. 

I hate it! ” she admitted. 

“ Good 1 that being the case we will proceed to 
find something else for budding genius to stoop 
to.” 

Do-on’t, please, don’t!” Natalie begged. 
“ This is so serious — to me.” 

“ Bless us ! I expect it is,” said Mr. Van Weir, 
suddenly. “ We’ll get down to business. Here 
is the rough idea I have drawn up of the pages we 
wish to devote to the children,” and he flipped a 
printer’s “ dummy ” before her. 

“ Do you catch the idea? There will be con- 
siderable writing — little squibs, fillers, and those 
comments on juvenile letters that give spice to such 
a department. 


138 THE OLDEST OF FOUR 

“ Now,” said the managing editor, suddenly 
serious, “you can do most of this work at home, I 
am sure. You will not have to come to the office 
but once a week — not more than twice at the most. 
Can you spare so much time, do you think? ” 

“ But, Mr. Van Weir! I cannot do this while 
I work in the store,” gasped Natalie. 

“ I — should — say — not 1 ” cried the editor. 
“ Don’t you suppose that the firm you work for 
could be led to let you go? ” 

She looked at him for half a minute, with 
clasped hands and shining eyes. 

“Well, Miss Raymond?” he asked, his own 
eyes laughing at her. 

“ Could — would it pay me? ” she finally gasped. 
“ I don’t know. It would not take all of your 
time. We do not pay great salaries here, nor 
enormous prices for contributions. And this is a 
good deal of an experiment. What do you say to 
fifteen dollars for a beginning? ” 

Natalie’s heart sank. She wanted to try the 
work — she wanted to try it more than she had any- 
thing in her whole life before 1 

But fifteen dollars a month — if she had to give 
up the store — was not enough. 

“ I do not know how valuable you have proven 
yourself to be to the dry-goods firm. Miss Ray- 
mond,” pursued Mr. Van Weir. “ But when you 


THE BORROWED CHAPERON 139 

come to consider that you will be paid at our usual 
rates for anything you may write which is accept- 
able for other pages of Our Twentieth Century, 

fifteen a week is not so bad ” 

A week! 

Natalie’s voice was quite hoarse with surprise^ 
and she started to her feet. 

He was the very quickest man to understand! 
He threw his head back and laughed one of his 
hearty, whole-souled laughs, and Natalie recov- 
ered her equilibrium. 

“I take it you are agreed, Miss Raymond?” 
he said, finally. 

” Indeed I she said; and just then a lad 
entered with a bundle of proofs and another with 
some manuscript, while the telephone at his elbow 
rang sharply. 

Mr. Van Weir attended to these three inter- 
ruptions in the briefest possible time, and then said, 
smiling: 

“ However they came to let us alone so long I 
do not rightly understand. Miss Raymond. But 
now, I expect, having begun, they will all be down 
on me. Until 12:15, when I always go out to 
luncheon, I shall have my hands full. 

“ But I want to settle this matter to-day. I 
want to talk to you and explain my ideas. I know 
you can grasp them and whip the first number of 


140 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


the department into shape for the first October 
number. That goes to press in a week’s time, you 
understand.” 

“Oh, Mr. Van Weir!” cried Natalie. “Do 
you really think I can do it? ” 

“ Surest thing you know.” 

“But with so little preparation?” 

“ Why not? We’ll make a stab at it, anyway. 
Now, you just wait. Sit over there and look over 
the magazines. Make yourself at home. We’ll 
talk this over to-day and get you fairly started on 
it. I’ve got my mind set on giving the kiddies 
something their mothers and fathers will bless 
Oiir Twentieth Century for. You see.” 

The young girl retired to the background and 
Mr. Van Weir returned to his work. He seemed 
to be an extremely methodical, as well as a busy 
man. He cleared off one side of his desk in a 
hurry. A dozen people came in and out. The 
telephone rang more than once in the next half- 
hour, too. 

By and by he rang for a stenographer, and there 
and then dictated half a dozen letters so rapidly 
that Natalie wondered how the girl who took the 
notes could ever write so fast. 

He seemed never at a loss for a word, and the 
letters were soon out of the way. He saw and 
approved, or discarded, certain illustrations that 


THE BORROWED CHAPERON 141 

artists brought in, consulted with an assistant, 
stuck a bunch of manuscripts in his coat pocket to 
read later in the day, and then got his hat and cane 
and told her he was ready. 

“ I have to conserve time to the uttermost. Miss 
Raymond. Now, if you will do me the honor, 
I would like to take you to luncheon, where we can 
talk over the details of this department.” 

Natalie stood up, but hesitated and blushed a 
little. Then she said, simply: 

“ If you don’t mind, I would rather not go 
to luncheon with you alone at our very first meet- 
ing.” 

The brown eyes twinkled merrily at her, but 
Mr. Van Weir replied, with perfect gravity: 

“ You are perfectly right. Miss Raymond. We 
need a chaperon, and one we shall have. Are 
you quite ready? Then let us go foraging — first 
for the chaperon, and then for luncheon.” 

They descended in the crowded elevator and 
reached the street. This, and the neighboring 
buildings, were like bee-hives at this hour. And 
fully half of these hurrying to lunch, as Natalie 
noted, were young girls. Many of them were no 
older than herself. 

“ Now, Miss Raymond,” said Mr. Van Weir, 
“ cast your eyes about and select that type of 
chaperon which you like best. You can scarcely 


142 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


make any mistake, I think, for most everybody on 
the street here just now is bound luncheonward. 

“ When you have selected the lady you fancy, 
we will follow her, and wherever she goes to eat, 
we will go. If it is the ordinary restaurant she 
enters we will get seats at her table, and if Mrs. 
Grundy herself should come spying upon us, how 
can she be offended? ” 

Natalie had to laugh at this suggestion. But 
she entered into the sport of borrowing a chap- 
eron — even if the chaperon selected did not know 
of the office to which she had been nominated! 

Almost at once she caught sight of a middle- 
aged lady who had left one of the offices, and in 
much merriment the two new friends followed her 
to a quiet tea-room on a side street of which even 
her own mother, Natalie was sure, would approve. 

The tables were so small that Natalie and Mr. 
Van Weir took the very next one to that at which 
the unconscious chaperon sat. But before they 
were through, it must be confessed, Natalie had 
forgotten all about this sop thrown to the pro- 
prieties. 

She became so much interested in the editor’s 
plans for the new department, in fact, that she 
quite forgot to eat, until he insisted upon her doing 
some small justice, at least, to what he had 
ordered. 


THE BORROWED CHAPERON 143 

There at the little table they planned what was 
to appear in the pages of her department for the 
first number, and Natalie parted from Mr. Van 
Weir and caught a mid-afternoon train back to 
Burlingboro, so full of the new project and so de- 
lighted with the result of her visit to the offices of 
Our Twentieth Century Home that her feet al- 
most danced as she hurried toward the Vesey Street 
cottage. 


CHAPTER XVI 


MANY INVENTIONS 

And now Natalie could come out from behind 
the counter at Kester & Baum’s store ! 

The thought was a joyful one to Natalie her- 
self, and delighted Laura. Yet the oldest of the 
four Raymond girls was neither ungrateful for the 
experiences of the summer, nor was it her pride 
that made her so glad to graduate from the notion 
counter. 

She had done her best in the humble position, 
too; and her best had been so good that when she 
went in and told Mr. Kester of the better paid 
employment she had obtained, the old gentleman 
expressed himself as very sorry indeed to have her 
leave. 

“ You vill long pe remembered here. Miss 
Nat’lie,” he declared, warmly. “ You are bot’ a 
goot girl, and a smart girl. If you do not succeed 
where you are going, come back here. We vill 
iindt you somet’ing petter as de notions, maype.” 

Sadie and Helena were sorry to see her go, too; 
indeed, all the clerks bade Natalie a warm good- 
bye. 


144 


MANY INVENTIONS 


145 


Her work was to begin at once, and Mr. Van 
Weir had told her that the check for her salary 
would be mailed her each Friday evening. 

“ It seems too good to be true ! ” she told her- 
self, over and over again. 

The new work came in handily for Laura, too. 
September brought the opening of school and the 
second sister had not made any preparations to go. 
Laura had been very nice about it — somehow, she 
had gained much in thoughtfulness during this 
hard summer. 

But now there was no reason in the world why 
she should not go to school as Natalie would prac- 
tically be at home all of the time. Of course. 
Rose went dally; but neither their mother, nor 
Lucille, could be left alone. 

Mrs. Raymond’s state, although better than It 
was at first, remained now most trying. She 
had settled into an apathy from which nothing 
seemed to rouse her longer than a few minutes at 
a time. 

Of course, neither she, nor the girls themselves, 
could hope now that Mr. Raymond would ever ap- 
pear. Even Natalie had lost her last faint glim- 
mer of hope. Father was lost to them forever, 
and she tried not to let her mind dwell upon the 
fact. 

With this new work that she so loved, Natalie 


146 THE OLDEST OF FOUR 

reorganized her whole existence. Fifteen dollars 
a week was a sufficient sum to pay all their living 
expenses, providing they did not live extravagantly. 
And she hoped, In addition, to gradually pay the 
small outstanding debts and never have to ask 
credit again. 

But there was one thing loomed up before her 
like a hobgoblin In a dream. November first was 
approaching, and on that date the semi-annual In- 
terest on the mortgage came due. 

Her father had left money for the settlement of 
the last Interest when he went away, and it had 
been paid. But how she was to find thirty dollars, 
“ all in a lump/’ by the first of November Natalie 
did not know. 

For fifteen dollars a week did not solve all their 
problems. It merely put them upon a better basis 
of living than they had had before. With its 
coming, too, Natalie had new expenses. 

At least once each week she would have to ap- 
pear in the offices of Our Twentieth Century 
Home. And occasionally she had to pay telephone 
tolls to the office. Besides, she had given many 
of her little sketches and stories a new lease of 
life in the mails, and they were going back and 
forth with quite business-like regularity. 

In these fugitive pieces she placed some hope. 
Extra checks might come In to help pay that thirty- 


MANY INVENTIONS 


147 


dollar interest bill. She worked hard, too, upon 
the book — a piece of work which she kept entirely 
secret from all the family, as well as from Mr. 
Franklin himself. She worked on it only at night, 
after the rest of the family were asleep, and kept 
the manuscript locked in her table drawer. 

She realized that it was a bold experiment — a 
young and inexperienced girl like her attempt- 
ing a real book. 

There were times, too, when it seemed as though 
she had come to the end of her resources — as 
though she could not invent another scene to put 
into “ Her Way Out ” ; and then something would 
happen in her own life — her real life — which 
would suggest to Natalie another complication for 
her heroine. 

Mr. Franklin was as proud as he could be over 
her success with the editor of the magazine. 
Natalie still gave him articles for his literary edi- 
tion on Saturdays; but anything that he thought 
was particularly good he refused and advised her 
where to send it. 

This first week of her new engagement, how- 
ever, Natalie was completely wrapped up in the 
children’s department for Our Twentieth Century 
Home. She had little thought for anything else. 

When it was complete, she took her material 


148 THE OLDEST OF FOUR 

and the rough dummy of the pages over to the of- 
fice and had another interview with Mr. Van Weir. 
This interview was purely business; yet Natalie 
was sure that she had never met anybody quite like 
the editor before. 

Most of her work he approved warmly; she 
changed the arrangement of some few pieces, and 
finally he said “ it would do ” and she went home 
again to begin work on the second number. 

Mrs. Hackett had looked after the house and 
her mother and Lucille while Natalie was in the 
city. She came back in the evening to bring “ her 
secretary,” as Laura laughingly dubbed the oldest 
sister, a letter from Pat. 

“ Sure, an’ if he don’t bes writin’ his old mother 
often, he makes up for it when he does write,” 
declared the good woman, displaying three or four 
badly scrawled sheets of paper. 

“And what does he say, Mrs. Hackett?” 
asked Laura, secretly smiling. 

“ Sure, an’ I’ve not me specs with me,” declared 
the old woman, boldly. “ It’s Miss Nat’lie will 
have to be radin’ it aloud to us.” 

With this declaration she handed the letter to 
Natalie, and then settled back in her chair, her 
hands crossed comfortably in her lap, and her little 
blue eyes twinkling happily in anticipation of her 
absent boy’s letter. 


MANY INVENTIONS 


149 


Natalie read it slowly, not forbearing to smile 
when she came to the typical Irish “bull ” in the 
very first paragraph of Pat’s letter: 

“ Dear Mother: 

“ It’s some time since I got that letter from you 
— which same was writ, I’ll be bound, by Mr. 
Frank Raymond’s oldest girl. Miss Natly. I re- 
member her well and it’s like she’s growed to be a 
pretty enough young lady. You must let her read 
this to you, for I’ve something to write about that’s 
bound to interest her. 

“ I’ve a new job, driving for a gent, who's just 
come from the North to settle here in New 
Orleans — leastwise he’s not had his business here 
for long. He don’t like the naygurs for servants 
no better nor I do, and so, tellin’ him I was an 
honest Irish lad, he hired me for coachman at 
once. 

“ This was only a month agone; but the place 
is easy, the pay is prompt, and the table is good. 
I’ve no fault to find, and he’s a little girl of our 
Katy’s age, that I’ve taken a shine to and she to 
me. ’Tis ‘ Pat, here ’ and ‘ Pat, there ’ with her, 
and sure nobody else suits her like Patsy Hackett, 
if I do say it who shouldn’t. 

“ It was she told me first about how she and her 
father started to go North in June by sea, and how 


150 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


they were aboard that ship that was sunk off a place 
called Hattie Rast — sure, ’tis no schollard I be, so I 
don’t know where it is but ’tis named for some 
woman, belike, and the sea and wind is as unsartain 
there as is a woman’s temper. 

“ However, it wasn’t until the little girl had 
talked about the wreck a deal that I know’d you, 
or me, or Miss Natly would be interested in it. And 
then your letter come and in it you told about Mr. 
Frank Raymond being lost at sea. So it is me 
took and put two and two together, and finally 
went to my master and asked him was it so. 

“ And he says he and the child was brought back 
to New Orleans on the Pancoast freighter, being 
taken out of the first mate’s boat while it was tossin’ 
in them troubled seas. So he did put off his busi- 
ness trip to New York, and will go by train, any- 
way, the next time. 

“ However, this isn’t my news. It’s about Mr. 
Frank Raymond. He was aboard that boat that 
sunk, and my master says he was a fine man, and 
helped the other passengers. He has Mr. Frank’s 
coat himself, with some few letters and papers 
in the pockets. Mr. Frank took it off on the 
deck of the sinking steamer and put it around this 
little girl that I tell you about — the little girl like 
Katy. 

“ She was shivering, and Mr. Frank stripped to 


MANY INVENTIONS 


151 

his shirt-sleeves, and when they went over the side 
into the first officer’s boat, Mr. Frank stood at the 
rail and cheered for ’em. 

“ ’Tis told me that Mr. Frank ain’t never been 
found. They say he was drowned. But my 
master said he died like a brave gentleman, and the 
little girl prays for him each night ” 

Natalie could read no more — not just then. 
Laura was long since in tears, and Mrs. Hackett 
was sobbing into her checked apron. 

“ Wisha, the big fool Pat always was ! ” she 
complained. “ Puttin’ all that into his letter, an’ 
thin tellin’ me to let Miss Nat’lie rade it. Sure, 
he never did have the sinse of a goney.” 

But Natalie came back from her room after a 
bit and finished reading the letter from the warm- 
hearted Irish lad to his mother. 

Nor was the story he told lacking in a certain 
quality of comfort for the Raymond girls. Again 
fellow-sufferers from the wrecked Sakonnet had 
praised their father’s nobility and courage. 

At the end of his letter, Pat Hackett said that 
the man he worked for proposed bringing the 
coat and unimportant papers in it North when he 
came and would deliver them to Mrs. Ray- 
mond in person. It was something to look 
forward to, although it offered no hope to the 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


152 

girls that they would ever see their father alive 
again. 

But it did strengthen in Natalie’s mind the 
thought of the story of the other survivor of the 
Sakonnet who had praised Mr. Raymond’s course 
in the trying hour when the ship rolled, helpless, 
in the seas off Hatteras. 

Mr. Middler, a man of wealth and prominence, 
had spoken of her father, and had undertaken to 
deliver Mr. Raymond’s wallet to his firm. And, 
it seemed, by either misfortune or direct villainy, 
the lost man’s family were kept from receiving the 
wallet, or from benefiting by that last act of Mr. 
Raymond’s devotion. 

“ It is too, too hard I ” thought Natalie. “ I 
believe Mr. Murch is deceiving us about that wal- 
let. For some reason he doesn’t wish us to have 
it. And why? Surely, such a little amount of 
money as there could have been in it would be of 
no moment to a man in Mr. Murch’s position.”. 

She could not shake off the feeling, however, 
that the junior partner of her father’s firm was in- 
clined to wrong them. Every time she visited 
New York on the business of her department in the 
magazine, she hesitated about calling at Favor & 
Murch’s office again. 

It was growing late in the fall now; perhaps the 
senior partner had returned from his long vacation. 


MANY INVENTIONS 


153 


He had long been ailing; but perhaps he had come 
back with renewed vigor to take up his business 
duties again. 

So she tried once more to see Mr. Favor. The 
boy remembered her, and grinned as he had before. 

“ Why, Mr. Favor’s gone to Europe,” the boy 
declared. He’s gone to some place to take mud 
baths, they tell me. Don’t know when he will be 
back.” 

Good reason, then, why her letters to him had 
not been answered. He was much too far away — 
if not too ill — to take any interest in her troubles. 

She asked again to see Mr. Murch, and the boy 
came back grinning, with the same answer. He 
was too busy to see her, and it was no use for her 
to wait. 

So, it seemed, to get her father’s wallet, with the 
little money in it that might be of aid to her when 
November first came around, was impossible. 
Natalie wondered if it would be wise to go to Mr. 
Middler’s house again and interview that gentle- 
man’s secretary. 

“ He could look up the receipt he said he got 
from Mr. Murch, and tell me the amount of 
money father sent home to us,” thought the girl. 
“ If it was only thirty dollars — only enough to pay 
this interest on the mortgage. 

Maybe by next spring, when it comes due 


154 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


again, I shall have saved a sufficient sum to meet 
the note promptly.” 

So much did this trouble her mind that, one day, 
when she had been at the office of the magazine, 
she determined to try and see Mr. Middler’s secre- 
tary. It was not far from the office building on 
Madison Square to Mr. Middler’s house on 
Madison Avenue. 

Natalie did not follow the movements of 
wealthy people through the gossip of the papers; so 
she was surprised to find Mr. Middler’s house shut 
up tight— each lower window boarded and the 
front door masked in a plank fence. There was 
not even a care-taker in the house. 

So this opening seemed closed to her, and she 
returned home that afternoon feeling very much 
depressed. 

The mail had brought her no small checks for 
the sketches she had submitted to other publications 
besides Our Twentieth Century Home. Indeed, 
during these first weeks of her engagement on the 
children’s department, she had little time or 
thought for anything but the material she was to 
supply to those pages. 

The first October issue appeared, and she read 
her own contributions with delight. Nor was Mr. 
Van Weir less delighted. He was sure the new 
department would make a hit with their readers, 


MANY INVENTIONS 


155 

and he insisted upon taking Natalie to luncheon 
again. 

This time the young girl overlooked the absence 
of the chaperon. She saw that young women in 
business were forced to assume a shell of independ- 
ence that would not be permissible under different 
conditions. 

If one must go out into the world to “ buff for 
oneself,” as the saying is, one must accept the con- 
ditions which the world of business offers, to a 
degree. Natalie had, too, a very high opinion of 
Harvey Van Weir. 

But Natalie Raymond was a working woman. 
She was self-supporting. Beyond that, she had the 
responsibility of the whole family on her shoulders 
and nobody could say that she had not supported 
this responsibility nobly. 

If her father should come home 

No; she could not say that any longer. But if, 
looking down upon his four fatherless girls and 
the helpless mother from that Land to which she 
believed he had gone, he could see into Natalie’s 
heart, and understand her motives, the oldest of 
four believed that he would approve, and bless her. 


CHAPTER XVII 


THE UNEXPECTED FRIEND 

It was about this time that Natalie completed 
the short story that her first visit to Mr. Van Weir 
had suggested. 

At first it did not please her; again it did. 
Never had she written anything of which she had 
been so uncertain as to its real quality. 

She put it away in her desk drawer with the 
hidden manuscript of “ Her Way Out — the story 
which was now fast nearing completion. The next 
week, however, when it became necessary for her 
to go to the magazine office, she put “ Partners in 
Crime ” in her bag. 

But in going over to New York on the train she 
read the little story through again and doubted if 
it was good enough to show to Mr. Van Weir. So 
she decided not to submit the manuscript until she ' 
could go over it with care again. 

Much as she needed the money for the half- 
yearly interest on the mortgage she felt that she 
could not submit a manuscript to Mr. Van Weir 
that was not her very best work. 

And interest day was drawing near. Natalie 
bore this coming trouble on her mind continually. 

156 


THE UNEXPECTED FRIEND 157 

As she came up out of the tube she caught sight 
of a man ahead of her who she was sure was Mr. 
Murch. Here was the junior partner of Favor & 
Murch at a time when he could not send word out 
to her by a grinning boy that he was “ busy.” 

The sight of the man spurred Natalie to action. 
She did not give herself time to become frightened, 
but hurried after him, reaching his side at the first 
corner. 

“ Mr. Murch! ” she cried. 

“ Eh ? What’s this ? ” he demanded, turning to 
stare at her. 

Evidently he did not know her, and Natalie said, 
quietly : 

“ I am Frank Raymond’s daughter. I have 
been several times to the office to see you ” 

“ I have nothing to say to you,” snapped the 
man, turning as though to hurry on. 

“ But, Mr. Murch 1 ” she cried. “ I will not 
take a minute of your time.” 

“ Indeed you will not,” he returned, in a most 
unpleasant tone ; “ for I don’t propose to give it 
to you.” 

“Please — please listen to me, sir!” Natalie 
begged, almost in tears, and keeping by his side. 
“ You are not being fair to me. There is some- 
thing my father sent home that you have got ” 

“ What do you mean, girl? ” snarled the man. 


158 THE OLDEST OF FOUR 

and turning swiftly, with his clenched hand raised, 
Natalie thought he would have struck her. 

She shrank from him with a little cry; and as 
she did so a sturdy figure stepped between the girl 
and Mr. Murch. The latter’s raised wrist was 
caught in a practised grip, and his clenched hand 
was forced down to his side, while the shoulder of 
Natalie’s friend in need forced the astonished 
Murch against the wall behind him. 

“That won’t do — that won’t do, I say!” 
growled the person who had thus interfered. 
“ There’s something wrong with you, boss. You 
can’t hit a girl like that — and get away with 
it I” 

He was a stocky young man, with quiet gray 
eyes and a very green hat with a velvet band — a 
loud hat. Natalie knew she had seen him before, 
but in this startled moment she could not place 
him. 

“What is this — a conspiracy?” snarled Mr. 
Murch. “ I’ll have you both arrested — accosting 
a decent man in this way on the street. Let go 
of me ! ” 

“ Not till I know what’s doing,” growled the 
other. 

Murch turned his head to look for a policeman; 
but the other jerked his arm, and he turned back 
with a cry of pain. 


THE UNEXPECTED FRIEND 159 

“ I’ll save you the trouble of looking,” said the 
young man, and threw back his coat, giving Murch 
a sight of the little gold badge pinned near the 
armhole of his vest. The view was so brief that 
the merchant did not see that it was not a badge 
of the New York police. 

“You are a detective?” exclaimed Murch, his 
manner changing instantly. “ I did not know that. 
Then I demand your protection from this — this 
young woman.” 

Natalie had shrunk back from both men. But 
the young man gave her what was meant to be a 
reassuring look. 

“ You needn’t be nasty about it. Mister,” he 
said to Murch, giving that gentleman another 
little shake. “ I happen to know this young lady* 
If she spoke to you, she had good reason to do so. 
Come on. Miss Natalie! What is it? ” 

Murch changed color again. His little eyes 
shot a glance from the Burlingboro detective to 
Natalie and back again. A close observer would 
have seen fear looking out of Mr. Murch’s little 
eyes — and the detective was a close observer. 

“ Speak up,” the latter said, encouragingly, to 
Natalie. “ What did you want this man for, any- 
way? ” 

“ He — he My father worked for his firm,” 

stammered Natalie, taking courage from the young 


i6o THE OLDEST OF FOUR 

man’s kindly look. “ You know that he was lost 
when the Sakonnet went down? ” 

“ Yes ! Yes ! ” returned the detective. 

He worked for Favor & Murch. This,^^ said 
Natalie, unable to hide her disgust, “ is Mr. 
Murch.” 

‘‘ I do not see why you hold me here to listen to 
all this,” broke in Mr. Murch, plucking up cour- 
age. “ We settled with these Raymonds after 
the man disappeared. His salary was paid in 
full — wasn’t it? ” he demanded of Natalie. 

“ Mr. Favor gave me the salary due to my 
father — ^yes,” admitted the girl. “ That is not 
why I accosted you to-day, and you know it.” 

“Hoity-toity! ” exclaimed the merchant. “I 
know of no reason for your bothering me.. I 
have nothing for you.” 

“You had something for us. You had my 
father’s wallet. He sent it to the firm by a pas- 
senger who was saved from the wreck.” ' 

“ Ha! ” interrupted the detective. “ I remem- 
ber reading something about that in the news- 
papers. But no names were given.” 

“ You’ll read a good deal in the newspapers 
that isn’t so,” snapped Mr. Murch. 

“ Well, how about it?” queried the young 
man. “ Didn’t this man turn Mr. Raymond’s 
wallet over to you? ” 


THE UNEXPECTED FRIEND i6i 


“Suppose I never received the wallet?’^ de- 
manded Mr. Murch, quickly. 

“ Oh, but you did! ” cried Natalie. 

“ Do you mean to say ” 

“Aw, hush! hush!” begged the detective, ad- 
monishingly. “ Let the young lady speak. 
Then you can have your say. Mister.” 

“ This is entirely irregular,” burst forth Mr. 
Murch. “ I stand on my rights. I shall de- 
mand to have this matter taken to the police 
court ” 

“ Don’t you be too previous. Mister,” urged 
the detective. “ You may get your wish.” 
Then he turned to the girl, and asked: “How 
do you know this man got Mr. Raymond’s 
wallet?” 

“ Mr. Middler’s secretary told me so,” she re- 
plied, simply. 

Murch staggered back against the house-wall, 
and it was plain that her answer surprised him. 

“ Who’s Mr. Middler? ” asked the young man, 
curiously. 

“ He was the gentleman who knew my father 
on the Sakonnet, and who took charge of the 
wallet. He sent it by his secretary to father’s 
firm.” 

“ Sure-pop ? ” 

“ Yes, sir. The secretary gave it to Mr. 


1 62 THE OLDEST OF FOUR 

Murch, and Mr. Murch signed a receipt for 
it.” 

“ Money in the wallet? ” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

The detective wheeled on the cowering Murch 
and eyed him with disdain. 

How about that little trip to court that you 
spoke of, boss? ” he said. “ It’s up to you.” 

But Mr. Murch was recovering from the shock. 
He drew himself up haughtily, saying: 

“You evidently do not realize that in a matter 
like this a gentleman’s word would go far before 
the court, while you and this girl would have little 
standing ” 

“ Forget it — forget it! ” urged this very slangy 
but determined young man. “ It don’t go. 
Does the girl get her father’s wallet; or don’t 
she?” 

“ Why — now that I am reminded of it,” said 
Mr. Murch, clearing his throat and trying his 
very best to look dignified, “ I do remember some- 
thing about the matter ; but I handed the whole 
matter over to Mr. Favor at once, and forgot all 
about it.” 

“How’s that. Miss Raymond?” queried the 
detective. 

“ Mr. Favor is in Europe, and he is ill. I have 
written to him twice ” 


THE UNEXPECTED FRIEND 163 

“ No letters are sent to him,” said Mr. Murch, 
hastily. “I fancy the old man was even more 
broken down than he appeared to be last summer 
before they took him to the mountains. He evi- 
dently forgot all about your affair,” and he 
nodded at Natalie. 

It was a lame excuse, but Mr. Murch saw his 
way out of the difficulty now. 

“ Like enough your father’s wallet is in Mr. 
Favor’s desk. There was some money in it, I re- 
member; but no papers. Oh, no papers!” 

The young man listened and eyed him closely. 
Natalie asked timidly: 

“ And is there no way in which the wallet can 
be recovered before Mr. Favor returns?” 

“ Why — I will take the responsibility of open- 
ing Mr. Favor’s desk ” 

“Good idea, boss,” broke in the detective, 
promptly. “Go ahead; we’ll come along with 
you and see the business through on the spot. 
Eh, Miss Raymond?” 

Natalie could not refuse to accept his kind 
offer; besides, rough as this young police officer 
seemed, she was not afraid of him, while she had 
become more than a little frightened at the junior 
partner of Favor & Murch. 

Mr. Murch started off ahead, but Natalie 
walked beside the young man in the green hat. 


1 64 THE OLDEST OF FOUR 

“ I sure do hate a bluffer like that,** said the 
detective, with a strong emphasis of disfavor for 
Mr. Murch. ‘‘ Of course, I was bluffing myself; 
I have no standing at this end of the tube. But 
I knew you were straight as a string. Miss Ray- 
mond, and so I knew he must be in the wrong.'’ 

Natalie was not quite sure that she grasped the 
full meaning of all of the young man’s remarks; 
but she knew he had befriended her most unexpect- 
edly, and she was too grateful to be a critic of his 
manner of speech. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


THE BOOK IS LAUNCHED 

They waited in the outer office of Favor & 
Murch — Natalie and her “ friend in need.” Mr. 
Murch was gone some few moments; when he 
returned he brought a written receipt for Natalie 
to sign, and in it was mentioned the sum of money 
in Mr. Raymond’s wallet. 

It was twenty-seven dollars. The meagreness 
of the sum caused Natalie no surprise, for after 
her father had paid his passage home from 
Havana, it was likely that he would have little 
left of the amount he had taken with him when 
he started on his long business trip. 

The detective took the shabby pocketbook in his 
hand and examined it carefully, as well as counting 
the bills. 

“ This was all you expected, Miss? ” he asked 
Natalie, in a low voice. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“How about papers? Didn’t he send any?” 

“ Private papers referring to the firm’s busi- 
ness, that was all,” Mr. Murch interrupted, quickly. 
“ The disappearance of Mr. Raymond is a very 
165 


i66 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


— er — strange affair. I have been quite unable to 
understand it.” 

“Meaning?” suggested the detective, with a 
sudden intent look, and his eyebrows raised. 

“ We expected some returns from Mr. Ray- 
mond’s long trip through the south and the West 
Indies. Either his business trip was a failure, or 
he neglected to send with his wallet the orders he 
may have accumulated,” snapped Mr. Murch, 

The detective weighed the wallet in his hand 
for a moment, and then passed it to Natalie, who 
quickly put it away in her bag. 

“ All right,” said the young man, bruskly. “ I 
guess we’ve got through here,” and the girl was 
only too glad to get out of the office, and out of 
Mr. Murch’s sight. 

But once out of the place the young man did 
not immediately leave Natalie, but strolled along 
by her side. He seemed more than a little inter- 
ested in her father’s affairs, and the contract he had 
with Favor & Murch. 

Finally, when he parted from her at the uptown 
entrance to the subway, he stood thoughtfully for 
as much as five minutes on the curb. 

“ There’s something queer about that man, 
Murch. And there’s something queer about his 
trying to do the hold-out act on that wallet,” he 
muttered. 


THE BOOK IS LAUNCHED 167 

“ It was not done for any twenty-seven dollars 
— not much ! Something bigger than that behind 
it. And just what that man’s little game is, is 
what’s puzzling Pete Darby right now,” and Mr. 
Darby gave his green hat a forward thrust, and 
strolled away with very thoughtful mien. 

Meanwhile Natalie went uptown with a vast 
feeling of relief. Yet she had been so shaken by 
the adventure that Mr. Van Weir noted her con- 
dition instantly when she came into his office. 

That this very busy editor should notice any- 
thing at all which troubled her privately, seemed a 
most surprising fact to Natalie. And he spoke so 
kindly to her, and was so sympathetic, that before 
she realized it she was deep in her own personal 
story and was telling him everything that had 
happened to her since the day of her graduation 
from high school. 

“ Why, it sounds like a book ! ” declared Mr. 
Van Weir, with one of his jolly laughs. “ You 
are living a more romantic story than any you have 
yet written. I’ll be bound.” 

“ It does not seem romantic — not the tiniest 
bit,” sighed Natalie. 

“ Oh, your perspective is entirely wrong,” he 
declared, quickly. “ But you can’t help that. It is 
the reason why many, many people who travel and 
have staving adventures can’t put their activities 


i68 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


down on paper. They’re too near to the actual 
happenings to see their proper values.” 

“ Perhaps that is so in my case,” Natalie said, 
doubtfully. “But, really, Mr. Van Weir, the 
attempt to make both ends meet for a family of 
five is not in the least romantic. It is hard, bone 
labor!” 

“I can believe you,” he responded, with sym- 
pathy. “ And you have had some pretty hard 
knocks. But maybe things will come better for 
you now. I want to assure you that the ‘ powers 
that be ’ are quite pleased with what you are doing 
for Our Twentieth Century; and I hope you will 
soon find time to try another story with me. I’ll 
give it my individual attention.” 

Yet this did not encourage Natalie to display 
“ Partners in Crime ” at this time. She wished 
to change parts of it, and she must make another 
fair copy before showing it to Mr. Van Weir, 
whose opinion she considered of much value 
indeed. 

There was another need Natalie felt, too, — and 
one that grew greater as time went on. She knew 
that, although she wrote a very readable hand, 
editors preferred typewritten manuscript. Some 
magazines even printed this request upon those 
“ refusal blanks ” of which she was making a fast 
increasing collection. 


THE BOOK IS LAUNCHED 169 

Natalie had never used a typewriter; but she 
had examined the one Mr. Franklin had, and she 
was sure she could easily learn to manipulate such 
a machine. 

The cost of hiring one was three dollars a month 
in Burlingboro ; Natalie could not see her way clear 
to such an expense, much as she needed the 
machine. It would be of great help in preparing 
her children’s department, as well as her other 
w^ork. And there was the book she was writing 
to be typed when it was done. 

Yet every penny of her weekly salary “ was spent 
before she got it,” as she had to admit. Now 
that November first had come she was obliged to 
squeeze out three dollars from her little income to 
put with the twenty-seven her father had sent 
home. 

And the recovery of her father’s wallet and the 
money troubled her, too. She told Laura of it, 
for she was old enough to understand; but she 
dared not show the wallet to her mother, or in- 
troduce the subject in any way. 

Mrs. Raymond began to worry over the interest 
money as the first of November approached; so 
Natalie told her that she need not do so, as the 
thirty dollars was ready for the mortgagee. 

“ Really, Nataliy, I do not see how you do it.' 
You are wonderful — wonderful,” sighed the in- 


170 THE OLDEST OF FOUR 

valid. “ And I could not see a way out for us at 
all!” 

Nor could the oldest of four see the way out 
very clearly as yet. But she believed in it I 

She believed religiously that, in time, she would 
be able to carry affairs comfortably from the pro- 
ceeds of her writing. The way was hard, how- 
ever, at times. 

For a time, she could not get ahead on the book 
in which so much of her hopes had centred. She 
had got into that “ slack water ” state so much 
dreaded by the professional novelist, in which 
action refused to be spontaneous, character 
“slumped,” and dialogue seemed forced and 
“ woodeny.” 

She labored at every paragraph with as much 
soul-travail as whole chapters had previously de- 
manded. Nothing seemed spontaneous; her mind 
was numb; inspiration had betaken itself to some 
other sphere. 

She went to Mr. Franklin and confided in him 
at this juncture. The good old man was delighted 
to hear that she had grappled with a real book and 
had brought it along as far as she had. 

“ What ! three-quarters done and just now feel- 
ing the first set-back?” he cried. “Famous! 
famous ! You are doing splendidly.” 

“ It’s nothing of the kind,” she cried. “ I’m 



FOR A TIME, SHE COULD NOT GET AHEAD ON THE BOOK. 

Frontispiece (Page 170.) 




THE BOOK IS LAUNCHED 171 

doing awfully bad I You don’t know. I can’t in- 
vent another thing, and yet my plot is not yet 
logically worked out.” 

“ Bring it down and let me see it, child. I do 
not believe it can be as bad as you say.” 

Natalie hesitated, smiled a little wistfully at him, 
and then drew forth the manuscript of “ Her Way 
Out.” 

“ It’s here, Mr. Franklin,” she said. “ But I 
am imposing on your good nature, I fear ” 

“ Thank heaven, I have some small supply of 
that same good nature left,” declared the editor of 
the Banner, patting her hand. “ And I welcome 
the chance to be the first to read your story. 

“ Remember, I am an old man, and old men do 
not sleep much as they go down the hill of life. 
Often I have to get up and light my reading- 
lamp and try to read myself into a somnolent 
mood.” 

“ Then perhaps this will be a blessing to you,” 
laughed Natalie, though rather ruefully. “ I have 
read it over myself so many times that I believe it 
would put most anybody to sleep.” 

“ We shall see, Natalie,” he said, accepting the 
bulky parcel. “ And I will take good care of it. 
Have you a copy? ” 

“ No, sir.” 

You should have it typed, child, and have a 


172 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


carbon copy made. You really need a typewriter 
if you are going to be a real author.” 

“That may be; but with butter at forty cents, 
and eggs so high that I am ashamed to eat more 
than one at breakfast, I don’t really see how I am 
to get such luxuries as typewriters.” 

But in her heart Natalie did not consider this 
matter of the writing machine quite so lightly. Be- 
fore she submitted “ Partners in Crime ” to Harvey 
Van Weir she wished to have a fair copy made ; and 
it would cost a dollar. She did not see how she 
could afford even that. 

She had never been able yet to redeem the pin 
she had pawned back in the summer. Laura had 
several times asked her why she did not put on the 
pretty fleur-de-lis when she went to New York, 
for at those times Natalie tried to look her very 
best. 

“ As we have never gone into mourning for 
poor, dear papa, I don’t see why you don’t wear 
the very best you’ve got,” Laura said, more than 
once. 

And Natalie’s “ very best ” was getting very 
shabby as well as old-fashioned. She had fresh- 
ened up her old winter hat, and found that she 
possessed some taste in millinery matters. 

So, taking hold of the family headgear, she pro- 
ceeded to make over and smarten the hats of her 


THE BOOK IS LAUNCHED 173 

three sisters. This was easy for Lucille and Rose; 
but Laura was another matter. 

“We really ought to have something newl* said 
the twelve-year-old. “ Do you realize, Nat, that 
neither of us have had as much as a new ribbon 
since graduation in June? ” 

“ Nobody realizes that more deeply than I do, 
Laura,” returned the oldest of the four, sadly. 

“ Oh, dear ! I don’t mean to complain for my- 
self,” Laura hastened to say. “ Of course, the 
girls notice such things, and as they have all got- 
ten new wraps and dresses for the winter, and I 
am still wearing last winter’s clothes, they natu- 
rally wonder!^ 

“ Aren’t there any other poor girls In your 
class at school? ” inquired Natalie, quietly. 

“ Well — but — You know, my dear, we have 
always been able to keep up appearances. We 
owe it to ourselves,” declared Laura, with a very 
old-fashioned air. “ There Is nothing that makes 
one so unpopular in class as shabby garments.” 

“ My dear Laura,” said the older sister, 
gravely, “ we Raymonds have been able to keep 
up appearances, as you suggest, because we chil- 
dren — you and I particularly — have been utterly 
selfish.” 

“Why, Natalie I I don’t see how you can say 
such things,” Laura cried. 


174 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


“ Yes. It is true. Father had a very hard 
time, with mother ill so much and all, to keep us 
along as he did. You and I never questioned 
how the food came on the table, or how new 
clothing came from the shops.” 

“Well, I’m sure!” 

** And now we knowl^^ urged Natalie, hastily. 
“We cannot be selfish — or foolish — any more — 
can we? ” 

“ Oh 1 But it’s very hard,” complained Laura, 
wiping her eyes. “ If I’ve got to go to school 
looking as shabby as Clara Belle Thomas, or 
Emma George ” 

“ Who both stand well with the teachers, at 
least, I have no doubt.” 

“Well! Is that everything?” demanded 
Laura, rather warmly. 

“ It is in our case, Laura,” said her sister, 
firmly. “You are going to school to prepare 
yourself for some means of earning your own sup- 
port later. You must choose, too, this year, 
whether you wish to be a teacher, or will take up 
the commercial courses next year and graduate 
as a young lady much better able to be self-sup- 
porting than your elder sister,” and Natalie 
laughed. 

“And you were the valedictorian of your 
class ! ” cried Laura. 


THE BOOK IS LAUNCHED 175 

“ That perfectly silly old valedictory ! ” 
groaned Natalie. “Til never hear the last of 
that— will I?” 

This conversation took place the very day she 
had taken her manuscript of the incomplete “ Her 
Way Out” to Mr. Franklin. At six o’clock 
the next morning, just after Natalie opened her 
eyes, she heard something rattle against her 
window. 

“ Gravel ! ” she exclaimed, when it was re- 
peated. ‘‘What under the sun can it mean? 
Who is it?” 

She sprang out of bed, wrapped herself in a 
warm robe, slipping her feet into a pair of 
“ mules,” and shuffled to the window. Again the 
handful of gravel rattled against the glass. 

It was a clear but still, dark morning. Natalie 
could only think that it was some of their boy, or 
girl, friends playing a joke upon her. Yet, what 
for? 

She pulled aside the blind a little. There was 
but a single figure standing on the walk. 

“ Surely that’s not Jim? ” Natalie thought, and 
she was no more puzzled than she was frightened. 

But when she saw the tall figure stoop as though 
to pick up more pebbles, she determined to hail 
him rather than run any further risk of her 
mother’s being awakened. 


176 THE OLDEST OF FOUR 

She snapped up the shade and opened the sash. 

Natalie ! ” called a voice that she very well 
knew. Yet this discovery surprised her intensely. 

Mr. Franklin! she cried, under her breath. 
“Whatever has brought you here so early? 
What’s wrong? ” 

“You are!” he declared, chuckling. “And it 
is your fault that I am here. Put on something 
and come down.” 

Much mystified she did as he bade her, and let 
him come into the kitchen, which was still warm, 
as she had tried to keep the fire over night. 

“ Something must have happened,” she cried. 
“ What have I done?” 

“ Why, I’ll tell you, young lady,” declared the 
old gentleman, laughing at her. “ You have 
dared write a story that has kept me reading until 
morning. And I want to know why you have not 
finished it? ” 

She could only stare at him in amazement. 

“ Go on 1 Pick up the threads of your plot, and 
continue in the way you have gone. What are 
you waiting for?” he demanded, with the eager- 
ness of a much younger man. 

“ But — but — I did think the last two or three 
chapters were so forced ” 

“ Best of ’em all,” interrupted Mr. Franklin, 
nodding his head wisely. “ That’s often the way. 


THE BOOK IS LAUNCHED 177 

The work which seems the least spontaneous is 
often the most readable — and vice versa. 

“ You must pick this story right up and go on 
with it. Don’t neglect it, my dear. I can point 
out some places where you might improve it by 
shortening the scenes. And those very parts, I 
expect, were the ones that seemed to you ‘ in- 
spired.’ ” 

He told her how, waking past midnight and 
being unable to go to sleep again, he had begua 
her manuscript, and had finished it but an hour 
before. 

‘‘ And I feel just as I do when I am foolish 
enough to read a part of a continued novel in a 
magazine — one that grips the reader and holds 
the attention. I want the rest of it ! ” 

Natalie knew the editor of the Banner so well 
that she was sure this was not fulsome praise on 
his part. He always told her exactly what he 
thought of her work; and it had been, indeed, his 
just criticism that had aided her during the year 
and more of her apprenticeship, when she was 
writing only for the Banner. 

So, encouraged by Mr. Franklin’s praise, Nata- 
lie took hold of “ Her Way Out ” with renewed 
courage. It seemed easier, too, when she once 
more got into the story in earnest. 

New possibilities opened up to her mind; 


178 THE OLDEST OF FOUR 

fresher complications and scenes were born of her 
imagination. She went on with the story to the 
end without a single halt; and, when she came to 
read it all over again, it seemed to her indeed very 
good. 

With relief, yet with a certain disappointment 
that she was to lose the association of the charac- 
ters she had created and had dwelt with in her 
dream-life for so long, Natalie completed her first 
long story. It was launched upon the sea of un- 
certainty — otherwise, upon the chance of its pub- 
lication. 

“ Her Way Out ” was ready to pass in stern 
review before publishers and their readers. 


CHAPTER XIX 


THE MAN FROM NEW ORLEANS 

Natalie had not neglected, however, either 
her regular work for the home magazine or her 
fugitive pieces that she submitted from house to 
house with a confidence that Laura said was 
nothing short of wonderful. 

Why, if I had all these chickens coming home 
to roost,” declared the younger sister, bringing a 
batch of returned manuscripts up to Natalie’s desk 
one morning. I should give up all hope and — 
Yes! — I’d go back to Kester & Baum’s.” 

‘‘ It is good for the young writer, I expect, to 
find that editors are not tumbling over each other 
to purchase her work,” quoth Natalie. “ At 
least, I am not likely to be over-stimulated by 
conceit.” 

Nevertheless, she did sell a couple of little 
sketches, which brought her, together, eight dol- 
lars. And this sum added to her regular salary 
was indeed appreciated. 

As winter came on, more money must be found. 
The younger children needed warm garments, and 
heavier boots. It did seem to Natalie as though 
179 


i8o THE OLDEST OF FOUR 

one need was supplied only to make way for 
another. They came in an unending procession, 
and kept her worried all the time. 

At last, she had dared take “ Partners in 
Crime ” to Mr. Van Weir. The editor took the 
manuscript with apparent pleasure, and made her 
sit right down as she was and wait for him to read 
it. He allowed nothing to interrupt his perusal 
of the story. 

“ Miss Natalie,” he said, when he had finished, 
looking at her gravely, “ you have a talent for 
pathos and character drawing that not all writers 
possess. I think you have been afraid to handle 
the character of the young man without gloves, 
because you knew that / knew I had suggested 
it. Eh?” 

The girl had to blush at this, for it was true. 

“ The little old spinster is as sweet and lovable 
a person as I have met in a story for a long time. 
But your portrayal of the young man does not suit 
me. You have tried to cover up his blemishes — 
have tried to smooth over that crudeness of youth 
which must naturally be his. 

“ Don’t make the mistake of doing that, my 
friend,” said Mr. Van Weir, earnestly. “ Take 
the story back and write about CartVing just what 
is in your heart — don’t try to save my face,” and 
he laughed good-humoredly. 


THE MAN FROM NEW ORLEANS i8i 


“ If need be, show your story to some other 
editor; but don’t spoil it, whatever you do. I’d 
like the first whack at it. I believe it will be a 
corking good story. But don’t be afraid to tell 
the truth about any of your characters.” 

This criticism Natalie took to heart. She saw 
she had been foolish in keeping out of her story 
certain things which it needed, but which seemed 
unfavorable to the character of Carding. 

She had to admit that this character was sug- 
gested by Harvey Van Weir himself. She had yet 
to learn that the trade of writing demands, first 
of all, truth. 

Natalie considered that she never had met a 
young man with so many engaging qualities. 
And he so encouraged her, and made her see his 
perfect honesty of opinion, that she went home 
and put back into the story the very sidelights upon 
Cartlin^s character which she had feared would 
offend Mr. Van Weir. 

She mailed him the story, then, having had it 
typed by a girl she knew in Burlingboro, who had 
a machine. To her delight, when check-day came 
around the next week, in addition to her regular 
fifteen-dollar stipend was a check for thirty-five 
dollars for “ Partners in Crime.” 

And this unexpected sum was indeed gladly re- 
ceived by the oldest of four. On the strength of 


i 82 the oldest of FOUR 

it she immediately hired a typewriter and began 
to study the intricacies of that trade, soon learning 
that application and a fairly good education were 
all that were really necessary to the mastering 
of it. 

She had heretofore, when in the Banner office, 
learned the printer’s case. This knowledge, to a 
degree, helped her to grasp the principles of type- 
writing. In three weeks she was writing at a fair 
speed with commendable accuracy. 

It was about this time that she was able to 
write “ Finis ” after the last paragraph of “ Her 
Way Out.” And she had already begun the copy- 
ing of this, her first really important piece of 
literary work. 

But nobody but Mr. Franklin knew that she 
had written a book; she did not tell her sisters, nor 
breathe a word of it to Mr. Van Weir. 

The typing of the long story took a good deal 
of her time during the next month. She squeezed 
out money for another month’s hire of the 
machine, and began to type all the manuscripts 
she sent out. 

Immediately she sold another little sketch, and 
she laid that check aside to pay for the typewriter 
for a third month. 

She had consulted with Mr. Franklin about the 
submission of “ Her Way Out ” to a publisher, 


THE MAN FROM NEW ORLEANS 183 

and the editor of the Banner selected the house to 
which she first sent the story for reading. 

Then, all she had to do about her book was to 
wait. 

Anc waiting is very serious work indeed. If 
Natalie had been obliged to sit down and fold her 
hands while she was waiting, the uncertainty of the 
publishers’ decision would have quite shaken her. 

But Natalie’s hands, or her brain, were never 
idle these days. Jim Hurley came occasionally 
to take her to drive in his auto; but usually Nata- 
lie refused and Laura went instead. Despite his 
crippled legs Jim had the levers and pedals of the 
auto rigged so that he could handle the machine, 
and he was a careful driver. 

“ You’re always busy, Nat,” he complained. 
“ Don’t you ever take time between spells of work 
to even breathe ? ” 

“ Well, my lung-action seems to be all right. 
Jimmy-boy,” she returned, laughing at him. 
“ But most generally I am. a little busy bee.” 

“ I thought when you got away from that 
horrid store that you’d be more like our old Nata- 
lie,” complained the youth. “ All the fellows are 
wondering what has become of you since gradua- 
tion, and the girls say you won’t even return their 
calls.” 

“What do you think, Jim?” she returned, a 


1 84 THE OLDEST OF FOUR 

little sadly. “ Do you think any of them would 
have time for tennis parties and teas if they were 
in my place? There are the girls and mother to 
look after, and the house; and then comes my 
regular work on the mag. — and the extra work I 
try to do. What do you think, Jimmy-boy? ” 

“ You work too hard,” he said, wistfully. “ I 
— I wish you wouldn’t, Nat. I — wish you’d let 
me help you.” 

“No, no, Jim!” she cried. “That couldn’t 
be. I have learned the way to independence, 
and — I love it! ” 

But sometimes, Natalie had to admit to herself, 
this independent path she traveled was pretty 
hard. 

It was a hard winter. Coal was dear, and so 
were provisions, and it did seem as though all 
their clothing wore out very much faster than it 
used to. 

“ Of course, that’s because I never had to think 
about such things before,” Natalie told herself. 
“ Poor mother and father did the worrying in 
those days. And here Laura declares she hasn’t 
a frock fit to wear to Jim Hurley’s birthday party 
next month.” 

And that was a serious matter. They could 
not neglect Jim by not appearing at his annual 
party. The Hurley house was, on those occa- 


THE MAN FROM NEW ORLEANS 185 

sions, turned upside down for the pleasure of the 
crippled youth and his friends. 

Jim had elected not to go to college; but he was 
studying engineering, and had a private tutor in 
languages and another in higher mathematics. 
Jim was always hoping that perhaps the doctors 
were wrong when they had told him that his case 
was incurable. 

‘‘ And when I can hop around like other fel- 
lows, and throw these hydroplanes away,” the 
cheery boy declared, “ I want to be ready to strike 
right out into some important work. I’ll keep 
my brain alive, if my feet are dead.” 

There never was a boy like Jim before — so both 
Natalie and Laura thought. 

“And if we didn’t come to his party he’d 
never forgive us,” the younger girl said. “ But 
we can’t go in rags.” 

“ Not unless he makes it a masquerade party,” 
returned Natalie, laughing softly. “ That would 
help us out a lot, Laura.” 

“ And you must have something new yourself, 
Nat. Your old frock is right-down shabby. 
And so is your street dress. I’d be ashamed to 
go over to New York in that dress you wear. 
What do you suppose that editor-man, you tell 
about, thinks of you when you look so poverty- 
stricken? ” 


i86 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


“ I really do not know,” said the oldest of four, 
calmly. 

Yet she turned aside quickly, and changed the 
subject, too. She found herself blushing over 
Laura’s question. What did Mr. Van Weir 
really think of her, anyway? , 

No ! the problem of dress could be ignored no 
longer. Nor could Natalie buy materials and 
make up the frocks for Laura and herself. Her 
mother had used to do that when they were 
smaller; and of late she had had a woman in by 
the day to cut and fit. 

But Natalie dared not even take the responsibil- 
ity of this last arrangement upon her hands. She 
knew very little about the needle. It seemed as 
though §he had been so busy the last few years 
at her books, and with her schoolmates, that she 
had learned very few domestic things. 

Why, Laura was a better cook than she was! 
The younger sister had a natural aptitude for 
culinary work, and Natalie was glad when Laura 
would relieve her of this end of the domestic 
problem on Saturday and Sunday. 

Natalie figured, and puzzled, and did the sum 
over and over again. Laura must have a new 
dress for evening wear. If she went to Jim’s 
party, Natalie must likewise have something new. 
In addition, a tailor-made frock of modern style 


THE MAN FROM NEW ORLEANS 187 

must replace the one that she realized was quite 
as shabby as Laura had pointed out. 

Fifty dollars! That was the least sum that 
these three dresses would cost. 

“ And where in the world am I going to find 
fifty dollars?” mused Natalie. “ Rolling up hrll 
with my name on it? Quite as likely as any way,” 
and she sighed most lugubriously. 

Meanwhile her work on Our Twentieth Century 
Home had steadily improved in quality — at least, 
so Mr. Van Weir assured her — and the children’s 
department was firmly established in the regard 
of the subscribers. 

Natalie loved the work. She put the very 
brightest things she could find, or invent, into the 
pages under her care; and the naive little letters 
she received from the “ kiddies ” were a continual 
source of delight to her. 

Rose and Lucille were her critics in this work. 
Nothing did she put into her pages, or submit to 
Mr. Van Weir’s approval, which the little girls 
had not passed upon. Their knowledge of what 
they liked and what they did not like was un- 
erring. 

Her trips to New York and to the editorial 
offices of the magazine were the most enjoyable 
times — socially — that Natalie had experienced 
since graduation. She became acquainted with 


i88 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


other girls who worked on Our Twentieth Century 
Home — some in associate editorial capacities like 
herself, some working in the business offices, 
stenographers and the like, and with two or three 
ladies of more mature literary experience. 

Mr. Van Weir was the cause of her knowing 
these interesting people. He made no show of 
giving her special attention when she came in ; yet 
he always seemed to have ample time for her, and 
he was interested in her personal affairs as well as 
in her department. 

Having taken the editor into her confidence 
regarding the financial state in which her father’s 
disappearance had placed her, and of her trouble 
with Favor & Murch, Natalie had naturally given 
Mr. Van Weir the right to speak again of these 
matters and show interest in them. 

Once or twice he had asked her if she had 
heard anything further from Mr. Murch. 

“ I don’t believe I want to hear from him again 
— or ever see him I” declared Natalie. “I 
would be glad to see old Mr. Favor if he gets 
well enough to attend to business again. You 
see, father must have taken some few orders 
during his last trip, and if those orders have been 
filled his commissions should be paid.” 

“ Yes,” said Mr. Van Weir, dryly, “ that is what 
I was thinking of. That Murch acted so meanly 


THE MAN FROM NEW ORLEANS 189 

to you that it strikes me he might be even 
meaner.” 

“Meaner?” cried Natalie. “Why! He 
couldn’t be.” 

“ Well, he could hold up your father’s com- 
missions without your being aware of it — isn’t 
that so?” demanded the editor. 

“ Why ” 

“ Now, Miss Natalie, if your father thought 
to send his money to his family, wouldn’t he have 
thought to send his orders to his firm? I have 
been studying over it. If it was only his family 
he thought of, why ask that Mr. Middler to 
deliver his wallet to Favor & Murch instead of 
directly to your mother?” 

“Oh, Mr. Van Weir!” cried Natalie, with 
clasped hands. “ Do you suppose that is pos- 
sible?” 

“ Quite; and probable, too,” he replied, with a 
little smile. “ I can see no real reason for Mr. 
Murch hiding the fact that he had that small sum 
of money belonging to you in his possession, un- 
less there was some greater villainy connected 
with it. 

“ It looks to me as though he did not want 
anybody to know that the firm had heard from 
your father at all. Isn’t that so?” 

Natalie nodded. 


190 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


“ Vd like to know just how to get at that fel- 
low,” growled Mr. Van Weir, reflectively, and 
his words aroused in the girl’s mind the thought 
of the fifty dollars she needed so badly for her 
own and Laura’s frocks. 

But she said nothing more. She could see no 
way to reach Mr. Murch, and the thought that 
the merchant was robbing them when the family 
needed money so much was not a pleasant one. 

Once Mr. Van Weir invited Natalie to come 
into town early and go with him to a matinee 
concert at Carnegie Hall. 

“ And we will find a sure-enough chaperon,” 
he said, smiling. “ We’ll ask Miss Jarrold to 
go.” (Miss Jarrold was one of the magazine’s 
contributors who had already made a name for 
herself in the literary world, and whom Natalie 
had met several times in the offices.) “ I can get 
three tickets.” 

But Natalie had to refuse. Not that she did 
not long to go — and with Mr. Van Weir, too! 
But she remembered her shabby best, and was too 
proud to attend the concert in such poor state. 

She knew Mr. Van Weir was disappointed by 
her refusal; but he was just as nice and friendly 
with her the next time she went in. Perhaps he 
suspected what was at the root of her refusal. 

The holidays were over now. They celebrated 


THE MAN FROM NEW ORLEANS 19 1 

New Year’s Day at the Raymond cottage by help- 
ing Mrs. Raymond downstairs for the first time 
since she had taken to her bed away back in June. 

But the poor lady was far from well. Dr. 
Protest forbade any domestic activities, although 
he allowed her to be driven out once or twice in 
Jim Hurley’s automobile. On those occasions 
Natalie went with her, and Jim drove very care- 
fully. 

The girls were thankful, however, that “ Mum- 
my-kins ” had improved even to this degree. She 
was not to be worried by any domestic matters, 
however, and whenever she began to talk about 
their situation and how hard it was for Natalie 
and Laura the former, at least, vetoed further 
conversation. 

“Let your big girl alone; she’ll attend to all 
that, Mother,” declared Natalie, with a confidence 
that much belied — sometimes — the secret feeling 
in her heart. 

For, as time went on, Natalie’s responsibilities 
seemed to increase instead of growing lighter. 
She managed to hide her troubles from the in- 
valid and — for the most part — from the smaller 
girls. 

But one day — early in January — there came a 
sudden and unexpected break in the monotony of 
their existence. 


192 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


Natalie was hard at work upon another short 
story; she hoped that in this way she might obtain 
the money for the new frocks. She heard the 
front door bell ring, and she ran and closed her 
mother’s door that she might not be disturbed by 
the voice of any visitor. 

A gentleman was standing upon the step — a 
dark, tall man, with rather a foreign look — a 
total stranger to Natalie. 

“This is Miss Raymond?” he asked, eyeing 
her with evident approval, and smiling in a way 
that made his rather saturnine face suddenly at- 
tractive. 

“ Yes, sir,” replied the girl. 

“ You — ^you are Mr. Frank Raymond’s daugh- 
ter? ” 

At the mention of her father, how Natalie’s 
heart leaped! She could only nod, for her lips 
were all a-tremble. 

“ Can I come in. Miss Raymond? ” he asked. 
“ I am George Orton, from New Orleans. And 
I have something here that belonged to your 
father,” and Natalie saw that he carried a package 
under his arm. 


CHAPTER XX 


IS THIS DIRECT EVIDENCE? 

When a dear one dies and we lay that one 
under the sod, knowing where that bodily presence 
which we loved really is, the heart rebounds the 
quicker from the pressure of natural grief. 

But when this loved one disappears, there being 
an uncertainty as to his grave and the means of 
his death, and, indeed, whether death has occurred 
or not, the mind of the mourning friend does not 
so soon settle to the fact that the missing one 
really is dead. 

It was so with Natalie Raymond. All the cir- 
cumstances of the wreck of the Sakonnet and her 
father’s disappearance pointed to his loss by 
drowning at that time. She told herself this 
almost every day. 

Yet her mind could not “settle to it.” And 
every little incident that arose, touching upon Mr. 
Raymond, brought the thought eagerly clamoring 
to the door of her mind : “ Is he really dead? ” 

It was because of this that the girl, facing the 
gentleman from New Orleans, could neither speak 
nor move for fully a minute. 

193 


194 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


She knew that this must be the man Patsy 
Hackett had written about — the gentleman the 
Irish lad worked for down in New Orleans. She 
remembered in a flash the meagre details of this 
stranger’s adventure with his little daughter when 
the Sakonnet sank. 

And she was sure that the package under 
his arm contained her father’s coat, which 
he had hastily removed and wrapped around 
the shivering little girl just before she was 
taken, with her father, into the first officer’s 
boat. 

Yet, despite these facts that she positively knew, 
Natalie could not crowd down the hope that in 
some way Mr. Orton’s visit would reveal some- 
thing more definite regarding her father’s dis- 
appearance. 

“ Come — come in,” she whispered at last, open- 
ing the door wider, and then ushered the gentle- 
man into their little parlor, and closed the door 
that no sound of their voices should penetrate to 
the invalid’s room above. 

Your mother?” Mr. Orton asked, quickly, 
and looking quite steadily at the girl. 

She has only been downstairs once or twice 
since father — father ” 

“ As ill as gasped the visitor. 

“Yes, sir. The — the wreck quite broke her 


IS THIS DIRECT EVIDENCE? 195 

up. She was none too strong before. And now 
she is quite an invalid.” 

“ Too bad! too bad! ” observed the visitor. 

“ But she is slowly getting better. If she has 
no set-back.” 

“ And she is too ill to be seen? ” 

“Oh, I wouldn’t have you see her for the 
world! ” cried Natalie, under her breath. 

“ And you are the oldest? ” 

“ The oldest of four,” said Natalie, more 
confidently. “ I have had to take the lead in 
things.” 

“ Then you are Natalie? ” said Mr. Orton, sud- 
denly. 

“ Yes, sir.” 

He took her hand again and looked at her 
steadily. “Your father had great confidence in 
you, Natalie,” he said, softly. 

“Oh, sir! don’t talk that way about father. 
If you do I shall break down. And I don’t want 
to,” returned Natalie, bravely, “ for I want you 
to tell me all you can about father, and — and how 
he was lost.” 

“ My dear girl,” said the gentleman, sadly, sit- 
ting down beside her on the couch. “ I could not 
possibly do that, I fear. We left the steamer 
before he did — if he left it at all.” 

“Oh, surely!” cried Natalie, “that captain 


196 THE OLDEST OF FOUR 

would not have deserted the Sakonnet while a 
single passenger remained aboard? ” 

“ Captain Joyce never would have done so had 
he known one remained — no, indeed.” 

“ Then, I don’t see how father could have been 
left?” 

“ Nor do I,” declared Mr. Orton. “ But I 
do not see how he could have been drowned, 
either.” 

“ We — we think he must have been lost out of 
that number that took the boats and rafts, and 
were finally picked up by the Eldorado — the ship 
that went to Argentine.” 

“ And that may be so, but I doubt it,” declared 
the man from New Orleans, shaking his head. 

“ Why, sir, do you doubt it? ” 

“ Those people clamored for boats and climbed 
into them as soon as they were pronounced fit for 
service. It was a fact that the boats of the 
Sakonnet were not in first-class condition. 

“ Now, the people who were saved by that 
tramp steamship, the Eldorado, got off soon after 
the mate’s boat in which Marjorie and I were 
taken to the Pancoast. It was about dark. 

“ There were passengers still remaining upon 
the sinking ship, and you may safely believe, 
Natalie, that your father did not trust himself 
with that panic-stricken crowd that almost threw 


IS THIS DIRECT EVIDENCE? 197 

themselves into the sea when they saw the Naida 
sail away, and the tramp steamer pushing her nose 
toward them. 

“ No. Mr. Harris, the purser, took twenty- 
three passengers into his boat, and that was much 
later. Your father might have been among that 
number ” 

“ Oh, no, sir; Mr. Harris was picked up by a 
Boston-bound boat and all the passengers with 
him were accounted for. Two or three of his 
crew were hurt and went to hospital there. No 
chance there, sir.” 

“Well! it was a strange and inexplicable af- 
fair,” sighed Mr. Orton. “ Your father was one 
of the bravest and kindliest men I ever met. His 
last act for my little daughter when we went over 
the side showed the kind of man he was.” 

He began unwrapping the bundle which lay 
upon his knees. 

“ Here is your father’s coat. Miss Raymond. 
There were only a few letters and a little business 
diary in it. I have waited to bring them to you 
myself and to tell you that we revere your father’s 
memory in our house as though he were one of 
our closest and dearest friends.” 

“ Thank you, sir,” replied Natalie, softly, and 
received and smoothed out the wide-shouldered 
blue coat which she so well remembered. 


198 THE OLDEST OF FOUR 

The letters were of no particular importance, 
and Natalie never remembered having seen the 
little red morocco-covered diary before. But her 
father’s handwriting was in it. 

She liked Mr. Orton for more reasons than the 
single one that he praised her father’s character. 
The gentleman . sat beside her and won all her 
story from her — her struggles to “ make both 
ends meet” until she had obtained her regular 
work with the magazine, as well as her present 
and pressing difficulties. 

She excused herself long enough to get 
luncheon, and made him stay to partake of it, 
little Lucille entertaining him during the interim. 
When Laura and Rose came home from school 
for the mid-day meal they liked the man from 
New Orleans, too. 

The visitor was one who made friends easily. 
Rose was about the age of his little . daughter. 
He had not brought her with him this time; but 
he promised that in the summer when he came 
North again she would have the pleasure of meet- 
ing the Raymond girls. 

Mr. Orton was in the suit and cloak trade, 
having a retail store in New Orleans, and he came 
North twice a year to buy goods. When he went 
away after luncheon he carried with him the re- 
membrance of a well kept house, a cheerful 


IS THIS DIRECT EVIDENCE? 199 

family of girls, and at their head a most capable 
and plucky young woman. 

“ She’s splendid,” he thought. Frank Ray- 
mond might well have been proud of her — 
although he did not look forward, poor fel- 
low, to any time that she would have to mother 
those other girls, take care of the invalid up- 
stairs, and run the household on her own tiny 
income.” 

Natalie dared tell Mrs. Raymond nothing 
about this visit. None of the four — even little 
Lucille — spoke of their father in Mrs. Raymond’s 
presence if they could help it. 

The lady seemed to have made up her mind, 
right at first, that her husband would never return. 
She had never, even in the first few days follow- 
ing the wreck of the Sakonnet, said a hopeful 
word. 

And, as the doctor had said, perhaps it was as 
well that she was not looking forward to Mr. 
Raymond’s possible return. 

Natalie hid the blue coat away where she knew 
her mother would never find it. The letters she 
read and destroyed; they were of no importance. 
But the little business diary she locked in her own 
table drawer. 

After all the others were abed that night she 
took it out and began to run idly through the 


200 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


little book. And yet, not wholly in an idle mood; 
she was curious. 

What Mr. Van Weir had said regarding 
Murch’s possible villainy had stuck in Natalie’s 
mind. She wished that she could have seen Mr. 
Middler, or his secretary again and learned the 
exact contents of her father’s wallet beside the 
twenty-seven dollars. 

But Mr Middler and his family, she now knew, 
were traveling somewhere in Europe. She could 
not reach even the secretary to learn just what 
Mr. Murch had signed for when he received her 
father’s wallet. 

In writing home while on his business trips, her 
father seldom said much about the orders he was 
taking. That wasn’t his way. His letters — * 
those which the girls saw, at least — were usually 
funny, or descriptive. Mr. Raymond was not a 
man who troubled his family about his business 
affairs. 

Therefore neither Natalie, nor her mother 
really knew whether he had done well or not on 
the southern trip which had resulted so disas- 
trously for them all. 

The little red-covered book began with the 
first of January. On some pages there was little 
jotted down. Sometimes a mere comment on 
the weather, or a few figures denoting some ex- 


IS THIS DIRECT EVIDENCE? 201 


penditures of the traveling man, or two or three 
items pointing to purchases which he was to 
make for Mrs. Raymond when he ran in to New 
York. 

Finally Natalie came to the time when her 
father had started South. She traced him by the 
jotting down of hotel expenses through the vari- 
ous states until he had reached New Orleans and 
sailed from that port for Jamaica. 

And every few days she noted initials and sums 
of money jotted down like the following: 

‘‘ Burmingham B. & C. Co. — $705.30.” 

“ Iscaria — Gregg & Co. — $332.” 

“ Nota Dame — F. & L. — $1,221.” 

On the pages devoted to the days he remained 
in the larger cities, like New Orleans, several such 
items were noted. Natalie believed these referred 
to sales he had made. 

These orders must have either been mailed to 
his firm before he left the United States for 
Jamaica, or they were orders to be delivered so 
far ahead that Mr. Raymond retained them in his 
own order book, to be filled when he got back 
from his completed trip. 

As Mr. Favor had said nothing regarding 
having received orders from her father, when he 
paid Natalie Mr. Raymond’s salary, the girl be- 
lieved that every order her father had written on 


202 THE OLDEST OF FOUR 

his trip had been reserved by him for his home- 
coming. 

Now, as Mr. Van Weir had said, would he not 
have thought to send these orders to his firm, 
when he had sent the wallet? It looked reason- 
able. ^ 

And as Natalie ran through the little red-cov- 
ered diary, she saw item after item written down 
in the same manner as those above, the sums ag- 
gregating an order list which, if filled by Favor 
& Murch, would certainly have brought their 
traveling representative a splendid commission. 

It was not hard to believe Mr. Murch a villain 
after the way he had already treated her. And 
the discovery of the listed orders in this little 
book, Natalie believed, was important. 

But what could she do about it? To whom 
should she go for advice? 

And even if the items in this diary could be 
considered direct evidence of Mr. Murch’s dis- 
honesty, as well as of Mr. Raymond’s success as 
the firm’s representative, how could her suspicions 
be corroborated? 

There might be a large sum of money owing 
to her father by the firm of Favor & Murch. But 
how to prove that fact was the question. 


CHAPTER XXI 


THE angel’s gift 

Money the Raymonds had to have. 

Natalie awoke every morning with that as a 
daybreak thought. And it was not a pleasant 
one. For fifteen dollars per week had seemed 
such a windfall when it had first begun; but she 
had not realized at that time that all through the 
summer they had been running behind. 

Not that they were much in debt at this present 
time — January. But the money she received 
from Our Twentieth Century Home was really 
eaten up by their daily expenses. And, as we have 
seen (and as was natural), their wardrobe had 
been steadily wearing out. 

“ Every time Jim says anything about his party, 
I feel like sinking through the ground,” said 
Laura, with a sigh, one evening. “ You know 
very well, Natalie, we can’t go.” 

“ Let’s be honest and tell him so,” suggested 
Natalie, with more boldness than she really felt. 

“ Maybe you can; you haven’t treated poor Jim 
right anyway,” snapped Laura. 

‘‘Why, how do you mean? Why haven’t I 

203 


204 the oldest of FOUR 

treated him right?” demanded the oldest of the 
four. 

“ You know without my telling you,” sniffed 
Laura. 

“ I don^t know,” said her sister, firmly. “ And 
I don’t like what you have said a bit, Laura.” 

“ I suppose I am wicked,” returned Laura, con- 
tritely, “ but I wonder why you seem so pleased 
that we’re not in debt, when we need and want 
dozens and dozens of things! I guess we could 
get some of them if we went into debt a very 
little way.” 

” We could indeed,” admitted Natalie, slowly. 

“ And why not go into debt for a decent dress 
apiece? Oh, Natl I shall be ashamed to death 
if we can’t go to Jim’s party — and what will he 
say? ” 

“ We’d better tell him the truth.” 

“No! Oh, no! It’s perfectly awful to be 
poor,” cried Laura. “ But it’s infinitely worse 
to have folks know that you are poor.” 

“ Don’t you suppose our old friends must know 
that we’re having a hard time to get along?” 
queried Natalie. 

“ No. They think father left some life in- 
surance, or something. And they think that you 
are earning a lot of money, I expect. Bob 
Granger said he read that first story of yours 


THE ANGEL’S GIFT 


205 


in the Home and he thinks that they pay you 
two or three hundred dollars for a story like 
that.” 

” My goodness me I I wish they did,” ex- 
claimed Natalie. 

“ Well, I didn’t disabuse his mind,” said Laura, 
complacently. “ I don’t like those Grangers, any- 
way. I believe that Mrs. Granger has been talk- 
ing about you, too.” 

Natalie said nothing; but she was very glad in 
her heart that Mrs. Granger’s gold-mesh bag had 
been found before she left Kester & Baum’s 
employ. 

These days, too, the postman never sounded 
his whistle in their block that Natalie’s heart did 
not jump. She left whatever she was engaged 
with and scurried to the door, for she was hoping 
to hear from the book. 

As the days passed and no word came about 
“ Her Way Out” Natalie became very despond- 
ent. All hope that it would be taken immedi- 
ately and “ advanced royalties ” offered her, soon 
fled away. 

No. To be more practical, the chance was 
utterly ridiculous that from the book she might 
get some immediate returns so that Laura and 
herself could buy new frocks in time for Jim 
Hurley’s party. 


2o6 the oldest of FOUR 

She had had no other bright idea for a short 
story. The work she furnished to the magazine 
weekly had become a “ grind it was no longer 
spontaneous and therefore was harder to write. 
No little sketches were sold about this time to 
encourage her, either. 

Indeed, Natalie was in a veritable Slough of 
Despond one day when she started for New York 
on her usual weekly visit to the offices of Our 
Twentieth Century Home. 

The possibility that Mr. Murch was cheating 
them, and that there were commissions due to 
their father, troubled Natalie’s mind exceedingly. 
There might be several hundred dollars due on 
their father’s account — and such a sum would be 
the difference for them between pinching poverty 
and comparative affluence. 

As she put her manuscript in her bag she saw 
the little red book, and she popped that in, too. 
Yet she was by no means convinced that she would 
show her father’s diary to Mr. Van Weir. 

Why should she? How could she expect the 
editor of the magazine to be so deeply interested 
in her affairs? Besides, Mr. Van Weir did not 
seem to be just the person to help her in this 
matter. 

And, while she walked to the station, turning 
over and over in her mind these thoughts, the 


THE ANGEL’S GIFT 


207 

very person who ha^d helped her with Mr. Murch 
before crossed her path. 

She had seen the detective several times since 
Mr. Murch had been brought to book; but the 
man had never presumed upon his acquaintance 
with her. She knew his name was Peter Darby, 
and that he had been for four or five years on the 
Burlingboro police force. Aside from that she 
knew nothing about him. 

Yet perhaps the remembrance of what he had 
done for her with Mr. Murch lent a more friendly 
expression to her face when she bowed and smiled 
at Mr. Darby on this occasion. 

At least, he sidled along toward her as she stood 
upon the platform waiting for the train. 

‘‘You go to town, I notice, pretty reg’lar. 
Miss? ” said Darby. 

“Yes. I have to go at least once a week to 
the office.” 

“ So somebody was tellin’ me — that you worked 
for a magazine, eh? ” 

“Yes, Mr. Darby,” said Natalie, smiling. 

“ Well! ” breathed the detective. “ I told ’em 
you were a mighty smart girl. ’Scuse me. Ma’am; 
I didn’t mean to be fresh.” 

“ That’s all right, Mr. Darby,” Natalie 
responded. “ I have only gratitude for you.” 

“Shucks! That wasn’t anything,” grumbled 


208 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


the detective. “ Say! did that man, Murch, ever 
run across you again? ” 

“No. But I almost wish he would,’’ Natalie 
said, impulsively. 

“ How’s that. Miss?” 

Just then the train came into view. Natalie 
made a quick decision. 

“ If you’ll ride with me, Mr. Darby, I’ll tell 
you what I mean,” she said. 

“Indeed I will!” observed Mr. Darby, with 
alacrity, and he helped her aboard and took the 
seat by her side. 

Natalie had reason to know that the detective 
had her interests at heart and she had determined, 
on the instant, to take him into her confidence re- 
garding the little red book. 

The moment she broached the subject of her 
father’s connection with the firm of Favor & 
Murch Mr. Darby looked interested. And when 
she told of the little diary that had come into her 
hands, and how it had reached her, the young man 
looked exceedingly pleased. 

“ I see! I see! ” he observed. “ It’s just the 
thing I’ve been looking for — that’s right ! ” 

“Just what you have been looking for?” re- 
peated Natalie, in amazement. 

“ That’s it. Ma’am,” said Mr. Darby. “ When 
I’m puzzled about a thing I can’t let go of it till 


THE ANGEL’S GIFT 


209 

I see the reason for it. I want to see what makes 
the wheels go ’round,” and he laughed. 

“ I see,” returned Natalie, nodding. 

“ That’s what got me my plainclothes job,” ex- 
plained the young man. “ When I poke my nose 
into anything I keep on till I smell out all there 
is to know about it. Now I This Murch struck 
me as being as crooked as a corkscrew.” 

“Oh!” 

“ And he wasn’t holding out that wallet for 
twenty-seven dollars — not much I ” 

“ That — that is what another of my friends 
says,” admitted Natalie. 

“ And he’s right,” agreed Mr. Darby. “ He’s 
right. So am I right. This little book tells me 
so. Will you let me have it for a while. Miss? ” 

“Yes, indeed, Mr. Darby,” said the young 
girl, without hesitation. 

“ You leave it to me. I know lawyers, and 
those that are even bigger than lawyers. It looks 
like a plain case to me, so it does. Murch got 
hold of all the orders your father took while he 
was away on that trip, and the firm has filled ’em 
without giving your father credit for his com- 
missions. Why 1 ” exclaimed Mr. Darby, “ if we 
can get in the evidence of this little red book 
there ought to be five hundred dollars, and more, 
coming to you. Miss.” 


210 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


I know it! I know it!” cried Natalie. 
“ Do you suppose it’s too good to be true? ” 

“ Huh! nothing is too good to be true for yoUy 
Miss,” replied Pete Darby, with enthusiasm. 

After they had separated at the end of the ride 
Natalie had a reversal of feeling. If old Mr. 
Favor came home and was well enough to attend 
to business again, how badly he would feel if he 
learned of his partner’s meanness. And Mr. 
Favor had been very kind to her. 

“ But we need the money so ! ” Natalie told 
herself. “Why, five hundred dollars would be 
just like a fortune to us.” 

All these possibilities for “ money in the 
lump,” however, seemed far, far in the future. 
And it was right now that Natalie Raymond 
needed cash so much. 

She was really ashamed of her old suit when 
she went into Mr. Van Weir’s office. Her coat 
was old, too, but in better condition and hid the 
dress. She would not remove the coat all the 
time she was in the offices. 

And again she had to refuse an invitation of 
the editor — and one that she very much wished 
to accept. 

“ Miss Jarrold is going to have a house-warm- 
ing,” he said. “ You know, she’s got a studio up 
the Avenue. And she told me to be sure and 


THE ANGEL’S GIFT 


2II 


bring you. If you have a friend out there in 
Burlingboro, bring her in with you and I’ll see 
you both home.” 

Natalie was very desirous of meeting the sort 
of people whom she knew would be at Miss Jar- 
rold’s party; but how could she go in her old 
clothes? 

This social dissipation seemed just as far be- 
yond her as was Jim Hurley’s birthday celebra- 
tion. She had to refuse Mr. Van Weir very 
firmly, and that young man really looked disap- 
pointed. 

“ I hope you’ll go somewhere some time with 
me besides a quick-lunch restaurant,” he said, a 
little plaintively. 

But Natalie could not respond with a laugh, 
as usual. She was too ashamed and hurt by her 
poverty. It was grinding the girl hard, these 
days! 

She went home that evening feeling more 
dispirited and “ wilted ” than she had ever felt 
when she was working behind the notion counter 
at Kester & Baum’s. 

The sitting-room was all alight when she came 
in sight of the cottage — and that was not usual. 
Natalie, seeing flitting shadows against the 
shades, hurried her steps. 

She went in at the kitchen door and found the 


212 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


room deserted, with supper set back upon the 
stove and just a suspicion of a burning odor com- 
ing from the pots. Before the other girls knew 
she had come, she was playing “ Fireman, Save 
My Child.” 

“ Never mind about those old pots and pans, 
Nat! ” screamed Laura, rushing in. “The most 
wonderful thing has happened.” 

“ Well, your burning the supper isn’t the most 
wonderful thing, that’s sure,” declared the oldest 
of four. “ It’s happened too frequently.” 

“ Croaker! ” returned Laura, and darted back 
into the sitting-room. 

“ You better come. Sister,” said Rose, her eyes 
big with wonder, while Lucille tugged at her 
oldest sister’s dress and jumped up and down with 
impatience. 

“What is it?” asked Natalie, walking calmly 
into the room. 

And then her calmness left her — and almost 
her breath as well! There, spread upon the 
couch, upon the centre-table, and over the chairs, 
were — it seemed to her — enough frocks, evidently 
of suitable sizes for all four of them, to stock a 
small store! 

“Where — where did they come from?” 
Natalie gasped, clinging to a chair to hold herself 
upright. 


THE ANGEL’S GIFT 


213 


“Angel’s gift! Angel’s gift!” cried Laura. 

“ Did angels send them, Sister? ” asked Lucille, 
awestruck. 

“ He was an angel in a blue suit and with a cap 
on,” declared Rose, who had even scoffed at the 
idea of Santa Claus for the past two Christmases. 

“By express?” demanded Natalie. 

“ That’s what,” said Laura, slangily. 

“ But, from whom?” 

“ Now you’ve asked me a hard one,” said 
Laura, shaking her head. “ No address on the 
parcel expect Mummy-kins’s. And whoever sent 
’em knows both our needs and our sizes. There 
are frocks for all — and the dearest little evening 
gown for me — wait till you see it. And one for 
you — quite grown up, Miss Natalie Raymond. 
And a coat apiece all round 

“Why, Nat Raymond! We can go to Jim 
Hurley’s birthday party now, all right, all right ! ” 


CHAPTER XXII 

MISS JARROLD^S PARTY 

Natalie hustled the little brood in to the sup- 
per table and refused for the time being to be 
further enthused by the wonderful gift from the 
skies. 

For such Laura believed it must be. Nobody 
who had not more than human wisdom and under- 
standing, it would seem, could have picked out 
those frocks and coats with such judgment. 

The greatest needs in the line of clothing of 
all four sisters were amply supplied. And not 
alone were the garments suitable, but they were 
pretty and quite in the mode. 

“ There won’t be a girl at school any better 
dressed than I shall be at last, thank goodness! ” 
exclaimed Laura, with an ecstatic sigh. 

Natalie would not agree, however. As the 
evening meal progressed, she grew more and more 
silent and thoughtful. 

“ Instead of being gladder, Natalie isn’t cheer- 
ful at all 1 ” declared Rose, at length. 

“ For pity’s sake 1 what’s the matter with you, 
214 


MISS JARROLD’S PARTY 2 1 5 

Nat?” demanded Laura, exasperated. “Rose 
is right. You’re as glum as can be.” 

“ I’m not glum,” denied the oldest of the 
four. 

“What are you, then?” 

“ I’m just wondering,” returned Natalie, 
slowly. 

“Well, it certainly does hurt you to wonder. 
Don’t do it. Be thankful for what has been sent 
to us ” 

“ That’s just it, Laura,” said Natalie, gravely. 
“ I can’t. I’m not sure that it is right for us to 

accept these things ” 

“ Oh, oh ! ” shrieked Laura. “ Don’t let me 
hear you say anything about sending them back.” 
“Where would we send them?” 

“ That’s it! ” cried Laura. “We don’t know. 
Why try to find out? It would be ridiculous. 
The garments were meant for us. They were 

addressed to mother ” 

“ But, do you notice there isn’t a label on the 
frocks, or coats. There is no way, it seems, to 
trace out our benefactor. I — I don’t like it. 
Laura.” 

“Natalie Raymond! Are you crazy?” de- 
manded Laura. “ Would you refuse to accept 
these perfectly lovely clothes? ” 

“ I — don’t — know.” 


2i6 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


“ Well, thank goodness ! you can’t refuse. Just 
as you say, we don’t know who the sender is.” 

“ But we don’t have to wear them.” 

“ There 1 now I know you are crazy,” declared 
Laura, shaking her head in despair. “ It would 
be like refusing to accept assistance from a person 
on shore if you were drowning. I expect you’d 
want to be introduced to the rescuer before accept- 
ing his assistance — eh?” 

But Natalie would not commit herself for the 
time being. She felt as though she must think 
the thing over. Indeed, she wished heartily that 
she could discuss it with her mother. 

But it would never do to take the invalid into 
their confidence. Whenever Mrs. Raymond be- 
gan talking about domestic difficulties, or their 
poverty, Natalie had laughed her out of the 
idea. 

“You don’t have confidence enough in your 
daughters, dear,” she had said. “ There never 
were such girls as we are.” 

“ I believe it — oh, I believe it,” had replied 
Mrs. Raymond, thankfully. “ And you are the 
most wonderful of all. To think of your support- 
ing this whole family by writing ! ” 

For Natalie had allowed her mother to think 
that the salary she received from Our Twentieth 
Century Home was ample for all their needs. 


217 


MISS JARROLD’S PARTY 

The invalid had, however, begun to notice and 
comment upon the girls’ shabbiness. Her eyes 
were quick to see that neither Natalie nor Laura 
appeared in new frocks. 

And here the much needed garments were at 
hand. They were no cast-off, second-hand clothes; 
but were fresh from the shops, even if they 
boasted no labels. 

This last fact made Natalie think twice. Who 
could so easily obtain garments like these from 
the wholesale shops, before the retail labels were 
sewed on, but Mr. George Orton, the man from 
New Orleans? 

Almost at once she had thought of him as the 
donor of the clothing. And he was in the busi- 
ness, and undoubtedly had a quick eye in judging 
sizes and the suitableness of garments. 

It was true he had seen the four girls for only 
a single hour; yet he had fitted them as to size 
(if he was the unknown friend) as closely as 
though he had known them all their lives. 

Yes, Natalie could see no other answer to this 
mystery. Mr. Orton, holding their father in 
such kind remembrance, had sent them these 
frocks and coats. And it would take but 
little work to make every one of them fit per- 
fectly. 

They could have in Miss Twist for a couple of 


2I8 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


days, and she would be able to do in that time 
all that was necessary. 

Laura did not even ask who the benefactor 
might be after the first surprise was past. But 
Natalie pointed out to her that it must be Mr. 
Orton. 

“ Well, I knew he was a nice man; but I didn’t 
know he was so nice,” replied Laura, carelessly. 

“ But should we take them from him? ” 

“Oh, bother! You’re not going to pry me 
loose from this party dress,” declared Laura, 
holding it close to her. “ I’m going to Jim’s 
party — and so are you.” 

But as it chanced something before Jim 
Hurley’s party brought Natalie finally to the 
fateful decision. 

It was the day after the mysterious express 
package had come to the Raymond cottage, and 
Mrs. Hackett was over to see “ the purty things,” 
and exclaiming over their beauties, when the post- 
man brought Natalie a letter. 

It was not the long-looked-for one from the 
publishers who had Natalie’s book under con- 
sideration; but the girl opened it with much 
curiosity, as it was addressed in a hand which she 
did not recognize. 

To her amazement, Natalie found it was from 
Miss Jarrold. The note read: 


219 


MISS JARROLD^S PARTY 

Nookside^ Fiftk Avenue, 

New York Crty, 
January the Seventeenth. 

Dear Miss Raymond: 

I have set my heart upon having all the Home 
people to my “ house warming party,” and I don’t 
want you to be the only one absent. Let Mr., Van 
Weir bring you — do; and your chaperon will be 
heartily welcome, too. I shall be keenly disap- 
pointed if you do not come, and can accept no 
excuse less than a physician’s certificate. 

Sincerely, 

Alicia Jarrolb. 

“And just think I” ejaculated! Laura, reading 
over her sister’s shoulder,, “ she’s, the ‘ Alicia 
Jarrold who has written books and whose stories 
are in the big magazines. Why, Nat! what a hit 
you’ve made with those folks over there in New 
York.” 

“ Sure, and dooes she re’lly live, on Fift’ 
Av’noo?” gasped Mrs. Hackett. 

“ That is where she has just engaged a studio 
apartment,’” said Natalie, nodding. 

“And what be thim studios, now? Do they 
cook an’ ate in thim ? ” demanded Mrs., Hackett. 

“ They have kitchenettes,” said Laura, quickly, 
and grinning. “ And their stoves are: just big 


220 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


enough to stew on, but not to bake and roast. 
Therefore the name, ‘ studio.’ ” 

“Behave, Laura!” admonished Natalie, but 
smiling withal. 

“ ’Tis a very foine neighborhood, I’ve no 
doubt,” declared Mrs. Hackett. “ I had a 
brother — God rist his sowl 1 — who was coach- 
man for a fam’ly what lived on the Av’noo. 
Sure, they ate off’n goold dishes, an’ there warn’t 
wan of the fam’ly — ne’er man nor woman — that 
could dress themselves.” 

“ What was the matter with them? ” demanded 
Laura, startled. “Were they all cripples?” 

“No. Only rich,” explained Mrs. Hackett, 
wagging her head. “ It dooes beat all how little 
some av these rich people is taught to do. Iv’ry 
wan of thim in that fam’ly, me brother Mike said, 
had aither a maid or a man to driss thim. The 
poor, helpless crathures!” 

“Well! it must be nice to be rich, just the 
same,” sighed Laura, holding up her “ party ” 
dress to a better light. “ Thank goodness, Nat! 
you can go to Miss Jarrold’s party.” 

“ Oh, I don’t know,” said Natalie, in a worried 
tone. “ I have refused once.” 

“Refused!” gasped her sister. 

“ Yes. Mr. Van Weir asked me and I told 
him I could not go.” 


221 


MISS JARROLD’S PARTY 

“ Well, you couldn’t — until these came,” said 
Laura, pointing to the heap of new dresses. 

“ But — but I am not sure it would be right. 
I have nobody to go with ” 

“ Thought you said Mr. Van Weir would see 
after you?” cried Laura. ‘‘Miss Jarrold says 
so, too,” and she pounced on the note to read it 
again. 

‘‘ But it would not be right for me to go with 
him alone to the party,” said Natalie, wisely. 

‘‘ I — don’t — see — why — not,” began Laura. 
Then she cried: “ Why! Miss Jarrold says your 
chaperon will be welcome ” 

‘‘And who would I ask to chaperon me?” 
demanded Natalie, quickly, though half con- 
vinced already of the feasibility of the scheme. 
She did want to go so ! 

‘‘ Phat sort of a chap is this you do bes 
wantin’. Miss Nat’lie? ” demanded Mrs. Hackett, 
quickly. ‘‘ Isn’t there ne’er a chap that’ll beau 
ye to thim doin’s? What’s th’ matter wid the 
la-ads — an’ you such a purty girl?” 

This delighted Laura immensely. 

‘‘ There’s a chap all ready to take her, Mrs. 
Hackett,” she cried. ‘‘ But who’s to go along 
and watch the chap? That’s what ‘chaperon’ 
means, Mrs. Hackett: somebody to watch the 
chap.” 


222 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


“ Sure, an’ some av thim nade watchin’,” re- 
turned the good lady, briskly. “ But I’ve as two 
good eyes as the nixt wan, and if ye want a chap- 
eron, Miss Nat’lie, here am I — take me.” 

Goody! ” cried Laura, fairly dancing up and 
down and clapping her hands. “ I dare you, 
Nat!” 

She was delighted at the picture of Mrs. 
Hackett in her best bonnet and shawl appearing 
in the Fifth Avenue studio in the office of Natalie’s 
friend. 

But after all, who would be more suitable? 
Natalie had not been used to going out much 
except with her mother, or to the school socials 
where the teachers played propriety. The Ray- 
monds had no particular friend on whom they 
could call in this emergency. 

And then, Natalie believed that Mrs. Hackett 
would amuse Mr. Van Weir immensely — 
especially as a chaperon ! 

So she immediately sat down and thanked Miss 
Jarrold for her invitation, and accepted it, and 
likewise penned a note to the editor of Our 
Twentieth Century reconsidering his offer and 
telling him at what hour to expect her at the end 
of the tube on the evening of Miss Jarrold’s party. 

It was not until she had written and sent both 
of these notes, however, that Natalie remembered 


MISS JARROLD^S PARTY 223 

that she had now, by this act, irrevocably accepted 
the present of clothing from the mysterious 
donor 1 

She could not go to Miss Jarrold*s party with- 
out wearing the pretty evening dress which almost 
exactly fitted her. And having accepted the dress 
for herself she could not refuse to let Laura and 
the others deck themselves out in the new — and 
needed — clothing. 

“ If it is Mr. Orton, I am a thousand times 
obliged to him,’^ thought the girl, m the end. 
*‘But if somebody else has shown us this 
charity 

It worried her, and yet the things were so wel- 
come! How could she have refused? Perhaps 
no other girl of her age and with as little ex- 
perience of the world as Natalie Raymond 
possessed, would have done differently. Fine 
dresses are a great temptation. 

The great day came and when Natalie dressed 
late in the afternoon, with the aid of all three of 
her sisters, and the oversight of Miss Twist, the 
seamstress, herself, she was pronounced little less 
than a vision of loveliness. 

“Dear me, Nat! I wish there was the least 
chance of me looking as pretty as you do when 
I’m your age,” sighed Laura. “ I believe I’ll dye 
my old tow-hair.” 


224 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


“ You let me catch you ! ” said Natalie. 

“ But it’s awful to go around colorless all one’s 
life when there is a brilliantly pretty sister in the 
family; it isn’t fair,” declared Laura. 

“ Beauty is a matter of taste,” remarked Nat- 
alie. “ Now, Ethel Rogers, fat as she is, would 
be all the rage in China.” 

“ Poor comfort. I’m not even fat/^ grumbled 
Laura. 

Mrs. Hackett appeared in a shawl of rather 
brilliant hue and a black bonnet faced with the 
brightest shade of green known to the canons of 
art. Laura could scarcely quench the giggles, and 
whispered to Natalie that she would give any- 
thing to see Mr. Van Weir’s face when he first 
caught sight of Mrs. Hackett’s gloves and “ reti- 
cule.” Mrs. Hackett did not consider herself 
completely dressed without this bag of colored 
beads and fringe that somebody had given her 
years before. 

But Natalie had no foolish pride about her. 
And she believed that Mr. Van Weir, and Miss 
Jarrold, and the others whom she expected to 
meet that evening, were entirely too well bred to 
remark upon Mrs. Hackett’s peculiarities of 
either dress or manner. 


CHAPTER XXIII 


THE MAN WHO TOLD A STORY 

It was a cold and blustery night and when they 
left Burlingboro flakes of snow had already be- 
gun to fall. Mr. Van Weir met them on the 
platform of the tube at Thirty-third Street. 

“ I was afraid, after all, you would not come. 
Miss Raymond,” he said, coming quickly to meet 
her. “ There is a young blizzard raging outside. 
But I have a taxi waiting and it is not far to 
Miss Jarrold’s place. Oh! ” 

Mrs. Hackett had come into his range of 
vision, and he was evidently startled for the mo- 
ment. Natalie, privately amused, introduced the 
good lady to the editor with an unmoved face. 

“ Sure, is this the chap I have to watch, Miss 
Nat’lie?” whispered Mrs. Hackett. 

“ Yes.” 

“ Thin he doesn’t ra’lly nade it,” declared the 
good woman. “ He has a thrustworthy face on 
him.” 

Which opinion she imparted later to Mr. Van 
Weir to that young gentleman’s great delight. 

The taxi whisked them to Miss Jarrold^s 
225 


226 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


studio. Mrs. Hackett had made up her mind to 
be impressed with much grandeur. But the studio 
was in one of those half-made-over old houses on 
the Avenue; and after she had panted up four 
flights of stairs to the floor directly under the 
roof, and taken a glance at the ^‘make-shifts” 
for home comforts which all such studios con- 
tain, the good lady lost her amazement and found 
her level quickly enough. 

“ ’Tis just a par-r-ty, given be the nice lady in 
the black driss an’ white lace! ’Tis beautiful 
lace, that same. Why! we might be havin’ the 
same par-rty at home. I’ll soon £nd plinty 
to dp, Miss Nat’lie. Don’t ye bother about 
me.” 

And she proceeded to tuck up her skirt, and 
lay aside the fashionable bag, and her gloves, and 
her bonnet and shawl, and take hold of affairs in 
the tiny kitchenette with capable hands. 

“ My dear Miss Raymond ! ” their hostess 
confided to Natalie, “you have brought the very 
nicest chaperon I ever saw. She knows how to 
do everything, and insists upon doing it, too ! 
She says that Mr. Van Weir doesn’t need watching, 
and that she will feel more comfortable if she 
is kept busy. I never can thank you enough for 
bringing Mrs. Hackett.” 

The people who had assembled were a most 


THE MAN WHO TOLD A STORY 227 

delightful crowd. At least, so Natalie found 
them. 

There were writers, and editors, and artists, 
and even a few actor- folk; and there were no 
“ wall-flowers.” Miss Jarrold termed them 

drones.” 

“ Nobody can stay to my party who can’t or 
wo'u’t do something,” she declared. “ Either you 
must sing a song, or speak a piece, or read some- 
thing, or — or play the jew’s-harpl Remember 
that.” 

This statement scared Natalie for a bit; then 
Mr. Van Weir told her he had the proofs of her 
story, Partners m Crime ” in his pocket (the 
Home was to print it in three weeks, or so) and 
so, when it came her turn, the young girl read the 
simple but pathetic little story, and it was rap- 
turously applauded. 

Mr. Van Weir gave them a comical bit — 
whether it was original or not, Natalie did not 
know. Miss Jarrold read a chapter from her 
most popular book. One of the stage ladies re- 
cited. Several sang. And Mr. Van Weir drew 
forth Mrs. Hackett from the background, played 
a lilting Irish air himself on the piano, and made 
the good-natured lady dance a jig! 

“ Shure, ’tis not Jenny Hackett that would be 
sayin’ such a foine gintleman ‘Nay,’ ” Mrs. 


228 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


Hackett, breathless at the end, whispered to 
Natalie. “ Hasn’t he the way wid him? Arrah! 
he’s the broth av a bhoy ! He may have a Dutch 
name; but shure, some wan of his forebears was 
in Ireland, and kissed the Blarney stone.” 

Suddenly there was a cry for “ Mr. Bender! 
Mr. Bender!” Natalie had been introduced to 
this gentleman — a slim, nervous, wiry man, with 
an ugly face, a pleasant voice, and the sharpest 
eye, she believed, she had ever seen. 

“ He is trying to escape his just share in the 
proceedings,” cried Miss Jarrold. “ What did I 
tell you? ” she demanded, leading the gentleman 
out before all the company. “ You can’t ‘ belong ’ 
at this party if you’re not willing to do something 
to entertain.” 

But my dear Miss Jarrold,” he said, “ my 
will is perfectly good. Only you know I can 
not sing, recite, or dance. I can’t even read 
either prose or poetry of my own composition, 
for I never yet succeeded in writing a page that 
suited me — ^never one that I dared let go into 
print.” 

“That’s right! That’s right!” groaned Mr. 
Van Weir. “For a man who has been every- 
where, and seen everything, and had adventures 
galore, this man Bender is a perfectly useless indi- 
vidual from an editorial standpoint. To think! 


THE MAN WHO TOLD A STORY 229 

he can’t put some of his ripping stories down on 
paper.” 

“ But he can tell ’em! ” declared Miss Jarrold. 
“ I have heard him.” 

“Say, Bend!” called a man from the other 
end of the room. “ Let ’em hear part of that 
yarn you were giving us at dinner to-night. That 
about when you were wrecked off Hatteras last 
June ” 

Natalie had been talking in a whisper to one of 
the girls who held some sort of sub-editorial 
position in the magazine office. She heard this 
speech as though from a great distance. 

But it halted her own tongue. Indeed, 
it seemed, for the moment, as though she were 
numbed and helpless, both of speech and action! 

The other girl thought she had stopped to 
listen for Mr. Bender’s reply. She said: 

“ Oh, I hope he talks ! Mr. Bender can tell 
stories if he can’t write them — and wonderfully 
interesting ones, too. Just listen.” 

Natalie did not move; but in a few moments 
she could hear. She knew that the gentleman had 
complied with the request and was already 
launched upon the story: 

“ I elected to remain and trust to rescue in the 
captain’s boat, and I believe my friend — the man 
I speak of — would have done the same had he 


230 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


had his own way about it. I can talk about him, 
and tell you what he did; wish I could write it. 

“ I never knew his name. There were up- 
wards of three hundred people aboard the boat 
besides the crew, and many of them I did not get 
to know at all. They said there was a multi- 
millionaire and his wife aboard — this man 
Middler whom you read so much about in the 
papers. But those sort of people never interest 
pursued Mr. Bender. 

“ I’d like to have known this man I speak of. 
He’d been traveling on business, I believe, 
through the West Indies — a fleshy, smiting man, 
with a hearty laugh — Yes! he laughed. I don’t 
know but he was the only person aboard the ship 
as she plunged, helpless, in the seas off Hatteras 
that day and evening, who did laugh. Oh, he 
he was a man! 

“ Before ever the first rescuing boats came to 
our aid — from the New York-bound steamer — he 
was encouraging the weeping women and children 
— and some of the male sex, too, that were Httle 
better off. 

“ He fitted countless life-belts for people 
whose fingers shook so they could not manipulate 
the buckles themselves. And in the end he had 
no belt left for himself — and laughed about it. 

‘‘ I saw him strip his coat from his back and 


THE MAN WHO TOLD A STORY 231 

wrap around a little girl just as she went over the 
side into the first officer’s boat — the boat that was 
picked up later by the Pancoast. 

“ He worked like a Trojan in getting our own 
boats and rafts over when the big tramp steamer 
hove to and signalled for us to send all aboard 
that could come. And it was when the remainder 
of the firemen made a rush for one of the rafts — 
the second mutiny of that awful time — that my 
friend was hurt ” 

Somebody screamed. Van Weir suddenly stood 
up, demanding: 

‘‘What is this you are telling us, Mr. Bender? 
Not the story of the wreck of the Sakonnetf ” 

“ It is — what part I saw of it, Mr. Van Weir,” 
returned Bender. 

“ I am sorry. Miss Raymond’s father was lost 
in that wreck. She ” 

But already Mrs. Hackett was at the uncon- 
scious girl’s side. She picked her up in her strong 
arms and strode with the girl into Miss Jarrold’s 
sleeping room. 

“ Sure, that man has no sinse at all, at all, 
frightening the lamb like this,” the good woman 
declared. 


CHAPTER XXIV 

JIM^S BIRTHDAY 

The lights were low and everybody but Van 
Weir had gone when Natalie and her faithful 
“ chaperon ” appeared in the large studio room 
again. It was still snowing fiercely outdoors, but 
the editor had obtained a carriage to take them to 
the station. Taxicabs could not run at this hour, 
for the snow was too deep. 

“ I will go over to Burlingboro with you and 
we can surely get a vehicle there, Miss Ray- 
mond,’^ Van Weir said. 

“ Or, if you and Mrs. Hackett will remain with 
me all night,” interposed their hostess. “ Surely, 
you know you are welcome,” and she patted the 
pale young girl’s hand. 

“ You are too good. Miss Jarrold,” sighed 
Natalie. “ But I feel that I must go home. My 
mother is an invalid, you know, and my sisters 
would be worried to death if I did not return 
to-night.” 

“ And begorra ! I’ve got a troop of young 
’uns to git breakfast for mesilf in the morning,” 
said Mrs. Hackett. 


23a 


233 


JIM’S BIRTHDAY 

“ I have made you trouble enough, I fear,” said 
Natalie. “ I broke up your party with my foolish- 
ness.” 

“ Not at all. Miss Raymond,” declared their 
hostess. “ I am quite sure it was late enough 
for them to stay — on such a night as this. 
Now, Mr. Van Weir, you take good care of 
these ladies. If not — well! Never again 
shall you have a chance to buy a story of 
mine 1 ” 

“ If for no other reason, then. Miss Jarrold, I 
shall take the best of care of them,” said the 
editor, smiling, and then Natalie went down the 
long flights on his arm, with Mrs. Hackett close 
behind, and all three quickly entered the waiting 
carriage. 

“Where is he?” whispered Natalie in Van 
Weir’s ear, when the carriage started. 

“Where is who?” returned the editor, in sur- 
prise. 

“ That man.” 

Van Weir started, staring at her^ — or trying to 
— in the dark, while the sleet and snow slatted 
against the carriage windows. 

“ Do you mean Bender? ” he asked. 

“ Yes,” breathed Natalie. 

“ He went home like the rest of them.” 

“You know where he lives, Mr. Van Weir?” 


234 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


asked the young girir with clasped hands and 
shaking voice. 

“ Oh, I can easily find him for you, Miss 
Raymond,” he said, soothingly. 

“ Do so — please 1 Oh, I wish I had not fainted. 
If I could have heard the rest ” 

“ You mean the remainder of his story of the 
wreck? ” 

“ Yes, yes.” 

“ But what good would that have done you. 
Miss Raymond? He came ashore in the cap- 
tain’s boat. And Mr. Raymond was not in that 
boat, for a certainty.” 

“ But he knows more than anybody else, Mr. 
Van Weir! ” moaned Natalie. “Don’t you. see 
he does? ” 

“ I fail to catch your point of view,” said the 
editor, slowly. 

“ Didn’t you know that he was talking about 
my father? ” cried the girl. “ He did not know 
his name; but he described him. Father was 
fleshy, and jolly, and as Mr. Middler said in the 
Courier) he was helping everybody throughout 
the turmoil and confusion.” 

“ But other men ” 

“Yes, I know. He was not the only man 
aboard the Sakonnet/'* Natalie hastened to 
say. “But he took off his coat to put around 


235 


JIM’S BIRTHDAY 

a little girl who went into the first officer’s boat. 
That was Marjorie Orton. We have the coat. 
Mr. Orton brought it to us only the other day,” 
Natalie went on eagerly. “ And then, this Mr. 
Bender went farther in the story of the wreck 
than anybody else.” 

“How do you mean?” 

“ He said that my father was hurt. He was 
hurt keeping back the firemen who broke loose 
again and tried to steal one of the life-rafts away 
from the passengers. Didn’t you hear? ” 

“ By Jove! ” murmured the editor, in wonder, 

“ He could have told me more,” sighed Nat- 
alie. “ If I hadn’t been so foolish as to scream 
and faint, he would have told me more. Oh, Mr. 
Van Weir! I must see that Mr. Bender again.” 

“And you shall!” cried Harvey Van Weir. 
“ I’ll go after him to-morrow — no ! this very day, 
for it’s past midnight now. You shall hear all 
that he has to tell about the wreck, and particu- 
larly what he remembers about your father.” 

“ If you will be so kind,” pleaded Natalie. 

The carriage plowed through the snow at 
last and reached the station. They got out and 
hurried to get that 12 140 train which Burlingboro 
people called “ the night owl.” Natalie had never 
been in the city so late before. 


236 THE OLDEST OF FOUR 

Under the river they went, and out over the 
Jersey flatlands where the huge snow plows were 
at work, for the storm was raging here quite as 
heavily as in the city. When the train stopped at 
Burlingboro all about the station was a white 
waste, and for a moment Natalie did not see how 
they were to get home. 

But then Old Jonesey and his hack came floun- 
dering through the drifts, and Van Weir put the 
girl and Mrs. Hackett aboard Jonesey’s ‘‘ deep- 
sea craft ” and shouted “ Good-bye ” after them 
as the ancient vehicle set sail for the Vesey Street 
cottage. 

“ And you’ll hear from me as quickly as I can 
find Mr. Bender,” declared the editor, as he 
closed the carriage door. 

He was to catch a train back to town in just 
seven minutes. Natalie never knew that the train 
was snow-bound somewhere in the western part 
of Jersey and that Harvey Van Weir spent nearer 
seven hours than seven minutes in the Burling- 
boro station before he could get back to New 
York. 

Natalie could hardly expect to hear from Mr. 
Van Weir that day. The postman barely got 
through the snow; but along about night an ex- 
pressman came to the door of the Raymond 
cottage. 


JIM’S BIRTHDAY 237 

The girls had not gone to school, and Laura 
reached the door first 

** More angel’s gifts! More angel’s gifts!” 
cried Rose and Lucille. 

But it was a small, flat, square package, and it 
was addressed to Natalie, She took it hastily 
from Laura, refusing to explain, and locked her- 
self into her own room with it. 

For she knew well what it was. Her heart 
went pit-a-pat when she saw it. She had to wait 
some few moments before she could cut the string 
and open the package. 

There lay the manuscript of her book — “ Her 
Way Out.” The book she had hoped so much 
from. All through this hard winter she had' 
looked forward to some great advantage to be 
gained from this book — even before she had sent 
it to the publisher. 

And nothing had come of it. It was’ 
returned 

Could it be possible that there was some word 
of explanation — some letter from the publishers 
telling her how to change it in some way to make 
it fit their needs? 

Natalie quickly tore open the inner wrapper. 
There was a slip of paper lying on the first page 
of the manuscript. She turned it over. Printed 
“ regrets ” — nothing more ! She already had half 


238 THE OLDEST OF FOUR 

a drawful of such flowery phrases from other 
publishers. 

It was an hour before she could face the rest 
of the family. She had kept the existence of her 
book a secret even from Laura, and she would 
not explain now what was the matter. Nor had 
she told her sisters about what she had heard the 
night before regarding the wreck of the Sakonnet. 

“One thing is sure,” grumbled Laura, “yoM 
didn’t have, a very pleasant time last night at Miss 
Jarrold’s ‘ soiree ’ — that goes without saying. I 
never saw you so grumpy in my whole life 
before ! ” 

And perhaps Natalie could be excused for 
losing heart just at this time. The bringing up 
before her of the keen remembrance of her father’s 
death — the stirring up again of all that mystery 
about his disappearance — was sufficient alone to 
make the girl unhappy. 

And the return of “ Her Way Out ” was a 
second blow that gave the finishing stroke to all 
Natalie’s cheerfulness. 

Secretly she took herself to task for even 
trying to write a book. How could she expect 
to? She didn’t know enough — she hadn’t the 
experience— above all, she doubted her talent. 

“ Of course, I know just about enough to do 
my department work and please the kiddies,” she 


239 


JIM’S BIRTHDAY 

told herself, hopelessly. “But I was foolish to 
waste so many, many hours upon that which can 
never bring me in anything. I declare! I might 
have better spent the time crocheting.” 

Yes — as Laura expressed it — the oldest of the 
four Raymond girls was fairly “ in the dumps.” 
Nothing looked hopeful to her now. And the 
day passed without her hearing from Mr. Van 
Weir. 

But the post brought a brief letter from him 
the next day. And even this bore disappointment 
to the girl: 

My dear Miss Raymond: 

The blizzard was a bad thing for our plans. 
They have gone “ a-gley ” for a while, I fear. 
Before I could locate Bender’s rooms he had 
started for Florida, for the tarpon fishing. I 
managed to get his hotel address and have already 
written him. I have asked for full particulars of 
his experience on the Sakonnet, and especially 
for everything about the man whom he started 
to tell us about at Miss Jarrold’s. If the man 
was hurt — seriously or otherwise — he will tell 
me, and his final disposal, if he knows, as 
well. 

Cheer up. I can imagine just how anxious you 
are to hear the last detail of your unfortunate 


MO THE OLDEST OF FOUR 

father’s story. If Bender knows it, Bender will 
tell us. 

With regards, 

Harvey Van Weir. 

Mr. Van Weir wrote as though he had no hope 
of there being anything certain or comforting in 
Bender’s story. But Natalie was thankful to the 
editor for taking so much pains on her behalf, 
and she wrote him a little note, making this plain. 

Burlingboro was “ plowed out ” by this time 
and Natalie could get down town. Having some 
bits for the Banner she went in and saw Mr. 
Franklin. Somehow the old gentleman seemed to 
see the despondency in her face at once. 

“What’s the matter now? What’s the matter 
now?” he demanded. “ Plainly the world is not 
all roses this morning for Miss Natalie Ray- 
mond.” 

“ Was it ever? ” asked the girl, rather sharply. 

“ Yes. There was a time. That was before 
she awoke to the realities of life,” said the editor 
of the Banner, thoughtfully. “ And, too, for a 
time there were compensations even for the 
troubles heaped upon her. Now what is it? ” 

“Oh, everything, I guess!” exclaimed Nata- 
lie, but unable to laugh. 

“Wait! I can guess,” cried he, smacking his 


241 


JIM’S BIRTHDAY 

open palm down upon his desk. “You have 
struck a snag. You have come to one of those 
dreadful catastrophes of life — especially of the 
literary life. I know it — I can see it,” he added, 
as Natalie began to blush. 

“ Your book has been returned from the very 
first publisher to whom you submitted it. Is 
that it? ” 

“ It has come back,” admitted Natalie, bitterly. 

“ From the first publisher? ” 

“ Why— yes.” 

“ Where’s that list I gave you of possible 
chances?” demanded Mr. Franklin, sternly. 

“I— I- — ” 

“ You’ve tried only one house and I gave you 
the names of a dozen to start with. Send it out 
again at once. Send it out, and keep sending it, 
till it is in rags, if need be. 

“ Do you suppose,” he demanded quite hotly, 
“ that the books you read were all accepted by 
the first publisher to whom they were sent — or the 
second, or third, or dozenth, for that matter? 

“ Writing a book is only the beginning. The 
selling of it is the harder matter. Many a writer 
can write in a month what it takes him two years 
to sell. 

“Ah, Natalie! where is your courage? See 
what fine success you have already had! You 


242 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


have done much better than the ordinary young 
writer. And to completely lose heart because the 
first publishing house does not grab your first 
book with both hands? Bah! ” 

“Oh, you can ‘bah!’’* began Natalie, half 
laughing and half crying, when he interrupted 
her more kindly: 

“ Don’t lost heart, my dear. Promise me you 
will send the manuscript this very day to the next 
house on the list. And keep on, one after another. 
Perseverance is the virtue you must cultivate, 
Natalie.” 

Perhaps this was not wholly so, for the girl 
had shown perseverance at times; but Mr. Frank- 
lin’s words sank deep in her mind at this time, 
and she obeyed him. She could not recover her 
spirits, however, for the time being. 

“ And Jim Hurley’s party in sight,” cried Laura, 
shaking her one day when they were trying on 
the new dresses after Miss Twist had done her 
part. “And it’s going to be the greatest party 
that ever was — Jim says so himself. 

“ Do wake up, Nat! Don’t be such a ‘dead 
one.’ It looks to me as though, after all we’d 
gone through, and we so much better off than we 
were in the summer, you ought to be as cheerful 
as a little grig! ” 

Natalie saw into Life deeper than her younger 


JIM’S BIRTHDAY 243 

sister, however. She could not see that the cir- 
cumstances of the family had so much improved. 
Had Mr. Orton’s charity not come so opportunely 
none of them would now be scarcely fit to be seen 
on the street. 

And although she had obeyed Mr. Franklin’s 
behest and sent the manuscript of “ Her Way 
Out ” to another publisher, she had no high hopes 
centred in that child of her brain. 

She had nothing to really look forward to but 
the fifteen dollars each week from Our Twentieth 
Century Home; and as far as she could see, that 
work was just as much of a grind as ever the 
notion counter had been at Kester & Baum’s. 

To tell the truth, Natalie wondered if she had 
not done wrong in giving up her position in the 
store. Helena Comfort had now been advanced 
to the head of a department and was drawing 
fifteen dollars a week, and commissions on sales. 
And Mr. Kester had assured Natalie that she 
would be successful in trade. 

It was not that Natalie had entirely lost the 
love for her writing; but circumstances had con- 
spired to make her doubt if her course in giving 
her whole time to it had been wise. 

Nothing aside from the department work had 
been successful of late. The third story she had 
tried for Mr. Van Weir had fallen through miser- 


244 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


ably. She could not strike again, it seemed, the 
high note of “ The Robbers of the Year ” and 
“ Partners in Crime.” 

She could only be thankful that her mother’s 
condition of mind and body was no worse. Mrs. 
Raymond had gained a confidence in her oldest 
daughter’s ability to manage and get along that 
delighted Natalie at times. When she was in the 
doldrums — as now — however, nothing pleased the 
young girl. 

Laura had to fairly drag her out of her apathy 
the evening of Jim’s birthday party. Mrs. Hackett 
had come over to help them dress, and would 
remain with Mrs. Raymond and the children until 
the girls got home. 

“ Sure, there’ll be no sinseless man wid his 
stories av wreck an’ disaster to trouble ye to-night. 
Miss Nat’lie,” urged the Irish woman. “ And 
ye certain-sure look swate in that frock. ’Tis no 
wonder that Dutchman couldn’t kape his eyes off 
ye that night.” 

“What Dutchman?” demanded Laura. “Nat- 
alie never said a word about a Dutchman. Did 
she have more than one beau?” 

“ Whist now ! Ain’t it a respictible gur-rl yer 
sister is?” demanded Mrs. Hackett. “ She’s not 
wan of these fly-away gur-rls that have as many 
beaus as a cinterpig has legs — thanks be ! 


245 


JIM’S BIRTHDAY 

“ But his name was Dutch ” 

“Mr. Van Weir,” explained Natalie. “And 
I don’t think he was any more attentive to me 
than he was to yoUj Mrs. Hackett.” 

“ Arrah I go along now wid yer blarney. Sure, 
Jenny Hackett had her toime wid the young 
felleys long, long ago,” declared the old woman, 
bridling nevertheless and smirking at herself in 
the mirror, greatly to Laura’s delight. 

But the sisters were made ready at last, and 
very pretty they looked. Laura, in her way, was 
quite as pleasant to look upon as the darker Nata- 
lie. It was not far to the Hurley house, so of 
course they walked. 

Before they got there they were joined by other 
young people bound for the same goal. So they 
entered, and the girls went up to the dressing- 
room, with quite a party of laughing, fluttering 
girls. 

When Natalie dropped the cloak from her 
shoulders inside the dressing-room door Estelle 
Mayberry was right beside her. Natalie had not 
seen Estelle often — that is, to speak to — since their 
graduation from high school the June before. 
And she had felt that Estelle could not forget 
that Natalie had worked behind the notion counter 
at Kester & Baum’s. 

Now she felt that Estelle looked her over very 


246 THE OLDEST OF FOUR 

sharply as she shook out her flounces and re- 
arranged the bouquet of hothouse roses that Jim 
had sent her. 

Estelle seemed to give particular attention to 
Natalie’s frock. She walked all around her with- 
out saying a word, and then she backed to Sally 
Fitch, and began to whisper. 

Miss Mayberry’s attentions were so marked 
that Natalie sought Laura and asked her sister to 
look her all over to make sure that there was 
nothing the matter with her frock. 

“ Why, you look as pretty as a picture ! ” Laura 
assured her. “ And of course there’s nothing 
the matter with the dress. There isn’t a nicer 
looking one here. Bless that Mr. Orton.” 

But Natalie went down to greet Jim and his 
mother with a fluttering feeling at her heart. 


CHAPTER XXV 


IT SERVES ME RIGHT ” 

The Hurleys had built their fine house so that 
the drawing-room and the library could be 
thrown into one large apartment. The carpets 
were off the floors and in one corner, masked by 
potted palms and the like, was a small string 
orchestra that was already playing softly. 

The lilt of the music, the odor of the cut 
flowers, a little fountain playing in a bowl at 
one end of the long apartment, and the movement 
and light and bustle and pretty dresses, already 
made a charming picture. 

It was the first social gathering of this kind 
which Natalie had attended since graduation^ — 
and she had missed the reception and class supper 
in the evening of that fatal day, too. 

Mrs. Hurley welcomed Natalie warmly. She 
was a large, black-browed woman, who had been 
handsome in her youth and had a good figure 
now. Jim had her deep gray eyes. 

“How pretty you look, child! Turn around 
and let me see,” she said, smiling, and squeezing 

247 


248 THE OLDEST OF FOUR 

Natalie’s hand. “ That frock certainly is becom- 
ing.” 

“ It would be something pretty bad you put on 
Natalie that wouldn’t look becoming,” declared 
Jim, from his wheel-chair — “ his throne ” he 
called it for this one evening. 

Somehow the look that passed between mother 
and son warned Natalie of something. She was 
suspicious — but why? 

The Hurleys had never been anything but kind 
to her. Jim was as faithful as Old Dog Tray — 
too faithful to suit Natalie at times I 

And yet she was worried and puzzled. When 
Jim whispered to her to stand near his chair and 
help his mother welcome the guests, she shook 
her head, pursing her lips at him, and went away 
by herself. There was something wrong. What 
it was Natalie could not imagine. 

Laura had found a flock of girls and boys of 
her own age, and with her own school interests, 
and they were chattering in one corner almost 
loudly enough to drown out the orchestra. 

Natalie saw several of her own school com- 
panions; but aside from the boys — who all seemed 
delighted to see her again — she did not, somehow 
“ warm up ” to those who had once been her very 
closest daily comrades. 

She had truly outgrown the girls’ interests. 


IT SERVES ME RIGHT 


249 


Her social life among the younger set of Bur- 
lingboro had lapsed. The girls who talked with 
her seemed diffident, or afraid of her. And some 
of them stared at her a good deal as Estelle had 
done. 

Indeed, she passed more than one or two whis- 
pering groups who ceased to whisper and looked 
self-conscious when Natalie was near. That they 
were talking about her the girl could not doubt. 
Yet she could not understand it. 

Natalie had really been very popular during 
her schooldays. She had had no “ spoon ” or 
close chum, as so many girls have in their school- 
life. But she had made no enemies and there had 
been little jealousy displayed when she was elected 
class president. 

This new attitude of her old schoolmates 
toward her she could not fathom — not at first. 
But before the evening was half over the girl had 
her eyes opened in a way that shocked her terribly. 

At one end of the library was the door into the 
conservatory. This door was open and the damp, 
sweet breath of the hot-house plants flowed out 
into the larger apartment. But the opening was 
masked by huge ferns, and Natalie, having danced 
rather vigorously with one of her boy friends, 
slipped in behind these ferns to sit on a bench and 
wait until her escort brought her an ice. 


250 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


And just as she had settled her skirts she 
heard the rustle of other skirts on the other 
side of the green screen, and a sharp voice 
said: 

“ Of course the dress is pretty. It was the 
prettiest one that Evans & Cribble had in their 
whole store.” 

It was Estelle Mayberry who spoke, and she 
was evidently in no pleasant mood. 

“ That dress by right belongs to me. I ought 
to be wearing it — and I hope it would look better 
on me than it does on that dowdy thing 1 ” pur- 
sued Estelle. 

“Why! how you talk, Essie I” gasped her 
companion. 

“ I don’t care. That pauper, Nat Raymond, 
has no business with such a frock. Why! they 
can scarcely pay their bills at the grocery. I guess 
Mr. Fanner told my mother how he had to shut 
down on them ” 

“ Hush 1 ” begged the other girl. 

“ I don’t care. It’s so. And then she having 
the cheek to come here and parade that dress 
before us all — and it given to her. And I expect 
Laura has on a charity dress, too.” 

Natalie was frozen in her place. She could 
not have moved, or spoken, had she so desired. 
The other girl said, in a milder tone: 


IT SERVES ME RIGHT 


“ But, Essie, my party dress was given me, too 
— by my aunt.” 

“ These Raymonds didn’t get their clothes in 
any such way,” declared Estelle. “ Oh, I know 
all about it. Mother and I had been in Evans & 
Cribble’s and had seen that frock and asked the 
girl to put it aside for us until we came back. 
But Mrs. Hurley came in and saw it, and she 
grabbed it ” 

‘‘Mrs. Hurley? Jim’s mother?” 

“ Sure. And she bought that, and a lot of 
other dresses and coats. Now, you know Mrs. 
Hurley has no girls, and no nieces, or any other 
relatives. She bought things for all those Ray- 
mond girls. I’ll be bound. That’s how they came 
to be togged out so at church last Sunday. 
They’re just paupers. And I wanted that frock 
Nat’s wearing more than I ever wanted a dress 
before in my life ! ” wailed Estelle at last. 

Just then Tom Hutchins appeared with Nat- 
alie’s ice, and the other two girls, unconscious 
that they had had a listener, moved away. 

“Why, Natalie! Are you sick?” gasped big, 
blundering Tom. “ You’re faint 1 Gee! What- 
ever will I do? ” 

He grabbed the napkin and dabbled a corner 
of it in the ice, and began to dampen her forehead 
with it. Big Tom, who was fullback on the foot- 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


252 

ball team, had no sisters at home and was entirely 
unused to seeing girls faint. 

But this brought Natalie back to an apprecia- 
tion of her situation in a hurry. 

“ Oh, my frock I ” she gasped. 

“ I haven’t spilled a drop on it,” declared Tom, 
earnestly. 

Natalie began to giggle. It was merely ner- 
vousness, but the fact that Tom thought she had 
been afraid of his spoiling her dress was certainly 
funny. She hated it! 

She never could wear Mrs. Hurley’s gift with 
any pleasure again. The whole community would 
know that she, and her sisters, were objects of 
Mrs. Hurley’s charity. 

“ It serves me right — it serves me just right 1 ” 
Natalie said over and over in her mind. 

But she had to recover herself now, for Tom’s 
sake. She even ate the remainder of the ice to 
please him. But it was just dreadful to have to 
go back to the big room, where the crowd was, 
and face all those girls. 

Estelle was repeating her tale to everybody 
who would listen, and even the most kindly dis- 
posed would only pity Natalie. And she hated 
to be pitied! 

Indeed, the bubble of Natalie Raymond’s inde- 
pendence was most woefully pricked. She had 


IT SERVES ME RIGHT ” 


253 


prided herself, at least, upon getting along without 
outside assistance. Only from Mr. Orton, she 
thought, could she have accepted the clothing 
that had come to them so timely. 

And Jim’s mother! 

Appreciating the kindly spirit in which the 
donation was made, Natalie still felt that the 
Hurleys were the last people from whom she 
could have accepted such a favor. 

Jim liked her too well. The crippled boy’s 
mother had undoubtedly done this because her 
son asked her to. No wonder the frocks and 
coats had all fitted so well ! Jim knew their needs 
almost as well as the Raymond girls knew them. 

She would have liked to go home at once, and 
take Laura with her. But that would have been 
both a cowardly and an ungenerous thing to do> 
and Natalie realized it. 

Besides, another thought came to her. Why 
tell Laura at all ? Why not ignore this ill-natured 
talk of Estelle Mayberry? Perhaps Laura would 
not even hear it. She had only heard it herself 
by accident. 

But it was hard to move about among the com- 
pany, and smile, and talk lightly, and go now and 
then to Jim with a cheerful word, and a good wish 
for “ many happy returns of the day.” 

She was sorry she was so popular with the boys. 


254 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


And having danced already with several of her 
old school companions, she could not refuse others 
who crowded her card with their names and little 
funny jingles, or good wishes. 

And all her popularity, she felt, added to 
Estelle’s spleen. Mrs. Hurley certainly had 
chosen the frock with an appreciation of Natalie’s 
style of beauty. The girl told herself that 
Estelle could not possibly have looked so well 
in it. 

Yet that was no satisfaction, for Natalie Ray- 
mond’s character suffered from few small feminine 
faults. She loved good clothes as well as the next 
girl; but she was not jealous of other girls’ good 
looks. 

And after her experience of the last few months, 
these boys whom she had gone to school with did 
not much interest her. She would have been glad 
to sit in a quiet corner somewhere and wait 
for Laura to get tired, and so go home at 
the earliest possible moment. 

It was not to be, however. But she “ sat out ” 
as many dances as possible, rather than flaunt that 
“ charity frock ” on the ballroom floor and cause 
unkind comment. 

“Why, you are not dancing much, Natalie,” 
said Mrs. Hurley. “ And you do look so pretty 
to-night, child.” 


“IT SERVES ME RIGHT” 255 

Natalie swallowed a large lump in her throat, 
and answered : 

“ If I look pretty, it is my frock that makes me, 
dear Mrs. Hurley. It was an ‘ angel’s gift,’ you 
know. And I am heartily grateful to the kind 
thought that prompted it.” 

Mrs. Hurley flushed a little, but tapped Natalie 
with her fan. 

“If you have good friends, you deserve them, 
Natalie,” she said. 


CHAPTER XXVI 


A MYSTERY 

Laura declared that she had had “ a most glori- 
ous time.” She was so full of it all that she failed 
to observe her older sister’s subdued manner 
and her silence. 

The little girls had tried to remain awake for 
their big sisters’ home-coming; but it had been 
impossible; so Natalie slipped an orange in each 
chubby hand as they lay asleep, and then the Ray- 
mond cottage was soon wrapped in slumber for 
the remaining early morning hours. 

All but Natalie slept. It was long ere she 
closed her eyes, for she was sorely hurt in heart 
and pride. 

Once Estelle Mayberry had been as friendly 
with her as any girl in school; it seemed too, too 
hard that she had turned against her for so small 
a cause. 

And by accepting the gifts from Mrs. Hurley 
for herself and her sisters Natalie believed she 
had laid herself — and them — open to many such 
unkind speeches. The community at large would, 
of course, know all about it. People would know 
256 


A MYSTERY 


257 

that, after all, Natalie Raymond had been unable 
to keep the family in comfort without outside help. 

For the first time the Raymond family were 
objects of charity. How her mother would feel 
if she ever learned of it! Natalie prayed that 
the knowledge might be kept from the invalid for 
all time. 

The family did not note particularly Natalie’s 
drooping the following day; or it was credited to 
the dissipation of Jim Hurley’s birthday party. 

But in the evening, by the last mail, she re- 
ceived a letter from Mr. Van Weir. Instantly she 
forgot the “ charity frocks ” and Estelle May- 
berry’s unkindness. She seized the letter, which 
was a thick one, and retired to her own room. 

It was a kind letter, and Natalie’s heart 
warmed toward the busy man who had taken so 
much of his time to try to satisfy her anxiety 
about her father’s disappearance. Yet all that 
Mr. Van Weir had learned did not seem at first 
reading to promise anything important. The 
mystery seemed still a mystery. 

The editor had quoted certain paragraphs in 
Mr. Bender’s letter which Natalie read over and 
over again: 

“ I did not hear the man’s name. He was of 
medium height, light brown hair, a cheerful face, 


258 THE OLDEST OF FOUR 

and he wore a blue suit, with a wire-gold watch- 
chain across his vest-front. 

“As I said the other night, he pulled off his 
coat to wrap around a child, and later picked up 
a sailor’s jumper and Scotch cap to fill out the 
necessities of his own wardrobe. 

“ When the firemen of the Sakonnet broke 
loose for the second time, this man was one who 
rushed between the brutes and the women who 
were being lowered into the boats. 

“ A man struck him on the head with an iron 
bar. He fell and, later, I saw him lying in a 
corner, evidently still unconscious. I saw Mr. 
Harris, the purser, bending over him, and I be- 
lieved he was one of the twenty-three passengers 
the purser reported as having saved in his boat 
and taken aboard the Boston-bound steamer.” 

Natalie sat with the letter in her hand and 
studied the matter calmly. Mr. Bender had 
carried the story of what had happened to Mr. 
Raymond farther than anybody else; but she 
could not encourage herself to believe that there 
was an atom of hope to be gleaned from it. 

Further on in Mr. Van Weir’s letter, the editor 
wrote ; 

“ I have called up the office of the owners of 


A MYSTERY 


259 


the Sakonnet. Mr. Harris is now on one of 
their other steamers — the Bremen. It is due in 
port in a few days. I will write to Mr. Harris 
for an interview, and either he will come and see 
me when he arrives, or I shall go to see him. 
We will learn the last possible thing there is to 
learn about your father’s disappearance.” 

But Natalie could not allow Mr. Van Weir to 
do all this by himself. She was too deeply in- 
terested in the mystery. 

Without any hope that her father was alive, 
she felt that she must see and talk with Purser 
Harris in person. So she wrote to Mr. Van 
Weir, asking him to make the appointment for 
her to see Mr. Harris, too. 

It chanced that she did not hear from the 
editor again until she went into New York the 
next week on her usual day. 

“ I am glad you have come. Miss Natalie,” he 
said, shaking hands with her. “ I was about to 
send you a telegram. I believe you’ll have to 
come in here and have a desk, or else rig a 
telephone in your house,” and he laughed. 

“Am I as important as all that?” she asked, 
trying to smile in return. 

“ There is a little extra work I believe I can 
throw your way after this week. You know, it 


26 o 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


isn’t the firm’s way to raise salaries except at 
Christmas ; but I believe I can get you five dollars 
more a week for this work I speak of. And you 
can do it at home.” 

” Oh, Mr. Van Weir I That will be a great 
help, I am sure.” 

‘‘ But I don’t want your talent tied down to 
editorial work altogether,” he returned, quickly. 
“ We must have some more short stories from you. 

‘‘ But this isn’t the point just now,” continued 
the editor. ” I was going to telegraph you be- 
cause the Bremen is in, and Mr. Harris has tele- 
phoned up that he can see us on board of her 
any time after three this afternoon.” 

‘‘Oh, Mr. Van Weir!” 

“ Now, don’t you get the idea that there is 
really anything to learn about your father’s death 
more than you know already,” said her friend, 
steadily. ‘‘ That won’t do at all.” 

“ I — I suppose I am foolish.” 

“ If you get all worked up, expecting some 
marvel to transpire, this inquiry will do you much 
harm,” spoke Mr. Van Weir, gravely. “ Can’t 
you see that? ” 

“ I know it, sir,” returned Natalie, struggling 
for self-control. “But you do not know how 
hard it is ” 


“I can imagine,” he observed, quietly. “Yet 


A MYSTERY 


261 


make up your mind that your poor father was 
drowned when the Sakonnet went down. Why! 
what else could have happened? Surely, after 
all these months, if he had been alive you would 
have heard from him I ” 

Natalie knew this to be true. She did her best 
to harden her heart against the thought that in 
some wonderful way she was to hear from Purser 
Harris something of importance regarding Mr. 
Raymond. 

She busied herself about her desk work, and 
Mr. Van Weir postponed his luncheon hour until 
later, so that they could go out together, and 
from the restaurant set sail for the dock where 
the Bremen lay. 

Bumping over the rough seas of West Street 
in a Belt Line car was a new experience for Nata- 
lie; had she not been so much worried over the 
mystery they were seeking to solve, she would 
have enjoyed the trip. 

Mr. Van Weir did his best to take her mind 
off the trouble; and she found him even more en- 
tertaining and kind than he had ever been before. 
But she began to question herself, too, as to why 
Harvey Van Weir should give her so much of his 
time and be so deeply interested in her affairs? 

They reached the dock and walked down the 
long, covered way, amid the rumbling trucks, the 


262 THE OLDEST OF FOUR 

shouting teamsters, the stevedores hustling 
freight, and all the smelly, bustling confusion of 
one steamer being unloaded on the one hand, 
while another was being laden at the other side 
of the dock. 

There was a single passenger-plank connecting 
the Bremen with the dock, and a sailor stood 
guarding that. But when Mr. Van Weir spoke 
Mr. Harris’s name the man allowed them aboard. 

“ Purser’s in his room, sir. He is expecting 
you. Ask any of the stewards to show you,” 
said the sailor. 

The purser’s cabin was on the main deck, for- 
ward, and on the outer tier. The purser him- 
self was an angular man, with a bristling mustache 
and sharp Scotch eyes that examined Natalie and 
her escort keenly. 

“ I’m thinkin’ you’re the gentleman who tele- 
phoned me?” he asked of Mr. Van Weir. 

The editor admitted it. 

“ And this is the young leddy — Miss Ray- 
mond?” 

Natalie, too, bowed. 

’Tis sad news ye received of your feyther 
last June, Miss,” said the purser, coming at once 
to the point. “ He was the only passenger lost 
of them all. It was a good showin’ — that; but 
it makes it no less hard for this young leddy, I 


A MYSTERY 263 

fancy, even if we do pride oursel’s upon that 
fact. 

“ Nae. The poor mon went overboard, I 
take it, after the bit of scrimmage in which they 
say he was hurt. I didna’ see it, havin’ my hands 
full at the time gettin’ ready my own boat.” 

“ But there is a passenger who tells us that he 
saw you examining Mr. Raymond after he was 
hurt,” said Van Weir, quietly. 

“ He’s wrang I wrang ! ” declared the purser, 
shaking his head. “ I admit I scarcely remember 
the man at all, although his name was on my list, 
fair enough. It was a busy an’ confusin’ time, 
as ye may be sure.” 

“And by no chance was my father taken, 
wounded, into your boat, sir?” asked Natalie, 
'v^ith clasped hands. 

“ Nae, nae ! ” cried the purser. “ Never think 
it. I put three men in hospital at Boston, but 
they was just hands. One we took out of his 
berth and lowered intae my boat. The other 
acted ugly and I knocked him out mesel’ with an 
oar before we boarded the other steamer.” 

“And the third?” asked Natalie, anxiously. 

“ One o’ them firemen that mutinied. He got 
a crack, he did. Served him right, I say. Last 
I knew he was still in hospital. ‘Tis little sym- 
pathy ye should waste on the likes o’ himJ* 


264 the oldest of FOUR 

Natalie remained silent, but her keen dis- 
appointment was plainly written on her face. 

“And, of course, the twenty-three passengers 
saved in your boat are all accounted for? ’’ asked 
Harvey Van Weir, softly. 

“ True for ye. Every last mon of them. 
One passenger went to hospital, too ; but that was 
Maister Bowley, and his wife came on from the 
West and took him home with her as soon as he 
could travel. 

“ Nae, nae,” repeated Mr. Harris. “ There’s 
ne’er a thing I know about Mr. Frank Raymond. 
I think there’s nae mystery or doot aboot it. 
The mon was hurt and slipped overboard in the 
confusion. ’Twas dark, too, ye ken.” 

“ I know, I know,” said Mr. Van Weir, 
shaking his head, too, and looking sadly at 
Natalie. 

It was plain that he, too, like the purser, saw 
no use in the girl’s pursuing her inquiry farther. 


CHAPTER XXVII 

PETE DARBY “ PUTS ON THE SOFT PEDAL ” 

They arose to go, but Mr. Harris waved them 
back to their seats, and called a steward. Sea- 
going men are the most hospitable in the world, 
and in a moment a white-jacketed black man ap- 
peared with a big tray on which steamed tea and 
coffee, with plates piled with sweet cakes and bis- 
cuit, flanked by little mounds of butter. 

“Ye’ll honor me by takin’ a wee sup?” said 
the purser, nor would he hear of a refusal. 

While she sipped her tea, Natalie asked: 

“To which hospital in Boston were the In- 
jured men sent when you arrived there, Mr. 
Harris? ” 

He told her, but shook his head. “ ’TIs a 
foolish quest, lassie,” he said. “ An’ ’twill make 
ye a sore heart. Give It up.” 

Mr. Van Weir repeated the same advice when 
they went away from the dock. 

“ Give It up, for there is no hope. Miss Ray- 
mond.” 

Her own heart told her to give It up. Yet, 
that very night, when the others were abed, she 
265 


266 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


wrote to the head surgeon of the Boston hospital 
inquiring about the four men — one a passenger 
— who were brought to that institution from the 
wrecked steamship Sakonnet in June of the previ- 
ous year. 

Seven months had passed, and yet Natalie 
Raymond could not give up the last shred of hope 
that there was still something to learn about her 
father’s disappearance. 

She sent the letter in the morning and then 
tried to put the whole matter out of her mind. 
She had more work to do for the magazine now, 
and that helped. And certainly, the promised 
live dollars a week extra was something pleasant 
to look forward to. 

There were plenty of domestic worries all the 
time, however; Natalie did not always find it 
easy sailing in the family’s affairs. 

One bill hung over her head like a sword of 
menace, and since she had taken hold of the 
management of the family’s affairs she had never 
been able to pay a dollar on it; and it was in- 
creasing all the time. 

This was the doctor’s bill. Dr. Protest was 
very nice about it, but his account now amounted 
to more than a hundred dollars, and how she 
should ever pay it Natalie had not the least idea. 

She decided to say nothing to Laura or her 


PETE DARBY 


267 

mother about this extra five dollars she was to 
receive from Our Twentieth Century Home, and 
begin giving the physician that five weekly. It 
would be a very slow way of paying the bill, but 
it would help some. 

January had run out and the shortest month 
of all the year had come in with its raw days 
when Natalie, sitting reflectively at her desk 
overlooking the front door of the cottage, saw 
a man picking his way through the slush to the 
stoop. For a moment she was puzzled to iden- 
tify the figure under the wind-tossed umbrella; 
then she saw it was Peter Darby. 

She had long since ceased to place any hope in 
recovering anything from Mr. Murch, of her 
father’s old firm ; and the detective and his 
promise had not been in her mind of late. 

But she believed it must be something he con- 
sidered of importance that would bring her odd 
friend to the house. Pete Darby was an individual 
who usually lurked about, seemed to have busi- 
ness in all quarters of the town, and rarely spoke 
to her on the street. A formal call on Pete’s 
part must mean something. 

She ran down to let him in, the children being 
all at school, and invited him into the parlor. 

“ Hope I don’t bother you. Miss,” said the 
young man, his face perfectly expressionless. 


268 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


“ If so, another time will do. Never like to in- 
trude on a lady’s privacy.” 

“ I must be very, very busy indeed, Mr. Darby, 
when I could refuse to see you,” she told him, 
smiling. 

His eyes smiled at her in return, although his 
face remained perfectly wooden. 

“ That’s kind of ye. Miss, and I certainly do 
appreciate it,” he said. “ And now to busi- 
ness.” 

“ Business? ” 

“Yes, ma! am! Was you forgetting that man 
with the sideboards and the glassy eye that we 
had the run-in with?” 

“Mr. Murch?” 

“ That’s him.” 

“What about him, Mr. Darby?” asked Nata- 
lie, with revived Interest. “ Of course, old Mr. 
Favor hasn’t returned home?” 

“ Near as I can find out the old gent won’t 
have much to say about the business, even if he 
does come back from Yurrup,” said Mr. Darby, 
wagging his head. “ That man, Murch, has got 
the whole swing of it himself.” 

“ Then there’s not much hope of our ever get- 
ting any money that may be due to father on com- 
missions,” said Natalie, with a sigh. 

“Ahem! ” said the detective. “ It’s too early 


PETE DARBY 269 

to say that. I — I been workln^ on the case 


some 

“ That’s very kind of you, Mr. Darby; I don’t 
know how I ever can pay you,” said Natalie, 
hurriedly. 

“ I never put in a claim for damages till the 
case is closed,” responded Mr. Darby, drily. 
“ And I don’t call it closed yet. What I’m here 
for is to ask you. Miss, if you’d go over to New 
York again with me some day this week.” 

“To New York? To see Mr. Murch 
again?” asked Natalie, doubtfully. 

“ That’s it. Miss. Nothing in the way, is 
there? I can wait your convenience.” 

“But — but will it do any good? I don’t like 
Mr. Murch.” 

Perhaps Mr. Darby chuckled ; at least, he made 
a clucking nose in his throat that indicated as 
much; but, as he would have said himself, “his 
face never slipped.” 

“ I’m not fond of that party myself. Miss. 
But I’ll be right with you, and if that man gets 
fresh, Pete Darby will put the soft pedal on him 
— now don’t you forget that/* 

At another time, and upon another subject, 
Natalie would have been vastly amused by Mr. 
Darby’s striking manner of speech and his per- 
sonality. Indeed, she had already tried to “ use ” 


270 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


the detective in a short story, and she was glad to 
study him a bit. 

Besides, he had befriended her and was attempt- 
ing now, it was evident, to help her again. 

“ I am very, very grateful to you, Mr. Darby,” 
she repeated. “ But do you think it will do any 
good for me to see Mr. Murch again? ” 

“ We’ll try it,” said the detective. “ He won’t 
eat us, if we go there, that’s sure.” 

So Natalie, after some further hesitation, agreed 
to meet Mr. Darby the next day she went to 
town on the business of the magazine, and the 
detective backed out bashfully, yet still with a 
perfectly unmoved countenance. 

This made a rather amusing rift in Natalie Ray- 
mond’s sombre existence at this time. Rose came 
home that noon from school in tears. 

“ Why do some of the girls say such mean things 
to me? ” she sobbed, with her face hidden in Nata- 
lie’s lap. 

“ What do they say, dearie? ” asked the oldest 
of the girls, yet smitten with the thought that she 
already knew. 

“ They say I’m a charity child. They call me 
‘ pauper.’ Beth Mayberry says we are so poor 
that other people have to buy our clothes — and 
I never told them a word about the angel’s gift I ” 

“ Never you mind. Rose,” soothed the big 


PETE DARBY 


271 


sister. “ You be a brave little girl and stand it. 
As soon as sister can she will buy you a brand 
new dress herself, and then you won’t have to 
wear this frock.” 

“ Oh, Natalie ! I want to be good; but I don’t 
like to be a charity child,” moaned the little one. 

“ Don’t tell Laura, or mamma,” urged Nata- 
lie, and comforted Rose the best she could. 

To her amazement Laura seemed never to have 
gotten wind of the real facts about the gift of 
clothing. But Laura had a very sharp tongue of 
her own, and was not easily browbeaten. Per- 
haps no ill-natured schoolmate had dared risk 
taunting the second Raymond girl as they had 
gentle little Rose. 

It was before Natalie went to the city again 
that she received a reply from the chief surgeon 
of the Boston hospital to which she had been re- 
ferred by Purser Harris. It was a brief letter, 
and seemed to settle the matter for all time, as 
far as any hope lay in the possibility of her father 
being still alive. It read: 

** Dear Miss Raymond: 

“ Upon reference to our books and to my own 
memory of the circumstances regarding the bring- 
ing here of the four survivors of the wreck of the 
Sakonnet, the following are the facts: 


272 THE OLDEST OF FOUR 

“ They were booked as three seamen and one 
passenger. Mr. Bowley, of Indianapolis, was 
suffering from shock and exposure, being in a 
weakened condition from an operation performed 
two months before. His wife came on for him 
and removed him from the hospital. One of the 
seamen was suffering from an infectious disease 
and was removed within an hour of his arrival to 
another hospital. He said his name was Harri- 
gan. Jim Smith had a bad scalp wound, but left 
the hospital two days after being booked. 

“ The third seaman is still with us as an orderly. 
He seems to have no friends and is a case that I 
am still studying. He seemed to have no injury 
saving a bruise above the left temple. Whether 
that bruise is the cause of his mental state or not 
we have been unable to decide. He may never 
have been strong mentally. The officer who 
placed him in our care, Mr. Harris, knew no more 
about him than he did about the other two seamen. 

“ As I understand it, the other twenty-two pas- 
sengers saved in Mr. Harris’s boat are all ac- 
counted for. Harrigan, or Smith, might have 
told us something about this third unfortunate of 
whom I speak above; but Smith has disappeared 
and Harrigan died a month later in hospital. 

“ Very respectfully yours, 

“ Myron G. Blodgett, M.D. ” 


PETE DARBY 


273 

It was plain enough. Even an imaginative girl 
like Natalie Raymond could find little in such a 
decisive statement of fact to encourage any roman- 
tic vaporings. 

She folded the letter and returned it to its 
envelope with a sigh, and tucked the envelope in 
her hand-bag. When she went to the magazine 
office she showed it to Mr. Van Weir. 

“Ah, Miss Raymond!” he said, shaking his 
head. “ Give it up! Give it up! ” and laid the 
letter, open, upon the edge of his desk. 

She tried to smile at him bravely, and went away 
to her work. Later she slipped out of the office 
without seeing the editor again, to keep her ap- 
pointment with Peter Darby. 

When the bullet-headed young detective ap- 
peared before Natalie in the ladies’ parlor of 
the down-town hotel where he had agreed to meet 
her, he had in tow a surprisingly shabby and dis- 
sipated looking individual, whose bulbous nose 
and watery eyes betokened a dalliance with 
John Barleycorn which amazed and disgusted the 
girl. 

“ Who — who is that person, Mr. Darby? ” she 
asked. 

“ Looks the bad egg right down to the ground 
— eh. Miss?” said the young man, coolly. “He 
is, too; but he’s knowing, and he’s cheap ” 


274 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


“ But what does he know? ” demanded the girl. 

“ Law, Miss. And he’s a hummer. I’ve kept 
him locked up ever since I called on you to make 
this appointment. He’s dead sober.” 

“ I should hope so,” sighed Natalie, much afraid 
that she was doing wrong to have met the detec- 
tive on this strange quest. 

This was the young girl who had been afraid a 
few months before to go anywhere without a 
chaperon ! 

“ He’s as safe as a house,” declared Mr. Darby, 
hoarsely. “ I won’t let him walk with us — let him 
trail along behind. No ! better still, let him go 
ahead; then I can keep an eye on him. We may 
have to pass a saloon,” declared this eminently 
practical young man. 

Well,” thought Natalie, “ I have come this 
far, I may as well see it through.” 

But she did wonder what Mr. Van Weir would 
say if he could see her set off for Wall Street 
convoyed by Mr. Darby, who kept one of his 
very sharp gray eyes fixed upon the shabby back 
of the lawyer. 

In half an hour they came to the offices of Favor 
& Murch. The same smart boy met them at the 
gate. He grinned knowingly at Natalie, and this 
seemed to incense Mr. Darby. 

He leaned across the gate suddenly and hooked 


PETE DARBY 


275 

a finger over the boy’s celluloid collar, drawing 
him suddenly forward. 

“See this?” he snapped, giving the youngster 
a flashing glimpse of the shield on his vest. “ Take 
us in to your boss. Never mind announcing us. 
We’ll announce ourselves. Savvy?” 

Evidently the youth did. Perhaps it was the 
clutch on his collar that made his eyes pop out; 
however, he led the way immediately to Mr. 
Murch’s private office. 

Mr. Darby marched in, with Natalie beside 
him. The lawyer brought up the rear. 

Mr. Murch stared at them over his broad- 
topped desk, first in wonder, then in wrath. Then 
he opened his mouth and began asking, most 
vociferously, how they dared intrude upon his 
privacy. ' 

“ Steady, boss,” advised Mr. Darby. “ It 
doesn’t take any courage at all to do this. Listen 
to my friend here with the green bag for a min- 
ute, or two, and you’ll understand why we have 
come.” 

“How dare you, you scoundrel?” repeated 
Mr. Murch, when Darby suddenly leaned across 
the desk and shook his finger in the merchant’s 
face. 

“ Soft pedal, boss! Do you hear me? We’ve 
got you dead to rights, and we’re going to make 


276 THE OLDEST OF FOUR 

you sing small before we’re out of this room. 
Understand me? ” 

“ No, I don’t,” snarled Mr. Murch. 

“ Show him the letters,” said Darby to the 
lawyer. 

The latter drew forth a bundle of documents. 

“ Know what they are ? ” asked the detective. 

“ No,” gasped the merchant. 

‘‘ They’re copies of orders given to Mr. Frank 
Raymond on his last business trip for this house 
from no less than eighty-seven customers through 
the South and the West Indies. Your firm has 
filled, or is filling those orders. How about mak- 
ing an accounting of these orders for this young 
lady and her mother, and paying over the com- 
missions due to them? Eh? How does that 
strike you, my friend? ” 


CHAPTER XXVIII 

IN BOSTON 

Mr. Murch may have been surprised by the 
detective’s statement. He probably was. 

But his astonishment was more than equalled by 
Natalie’s. Mr. Darby, who dearly loved a sen- 
sation, had succeeded in working one up on this 
occasion. The young girl heard what followed In 
a daze. 

Mr. Murch was not the man to give in easily. 
They had to show him proof, and finally Mr, 
Darby threatened him seriously before he came to 
terms. 

But the detective was sure of his man, while 
the lawyer, disreputable as he looked, was sure of 
his case. 

After an hour Mr. Murch capitulated, the 
account was figured up, a check for nearly five 
hundred dollars was drawn by the dishonest mer- 
chant, and they only lingered while Darby went 
out with a clerk to have the check certified at the 
bank. 

“ I hope I’ve seen the last of you,” snarled Mr. 
Murch, when they were ready to withdraw. 

277 


278 THE OLDEST OF FOUR 

“ It’s a case of ‘ hoss and boss,’ old chap,” 
declared the detective. “ We’re none of us going 
to weep any briny tears as we go out — don’t 
believe it I ” 

But Natalie could forgive even the mean- 
spirited Mr. Murch when she saw the certified 
check actually in her hand. 

“ Mr. Darby ! you are surely my friend in need 1 
Why, I cannot believe this is true. It relieves me 
of very pressing necessities ” 

She could go no farther for the moment with- 
out breaking down. Mr. Darby looked more 
uncomfortable than he ever had before in her 
presence. Beads of perspiration stood upon his 
brow, cold as the day was. 

“ Don’t you say another word I Don’t you say 
another word. Miss,” he threatened. “ It wasn’t 
anything. It gave me more fun than a barrel of 
monkeys to get that man right — Beg pardon. 
Miss! I know my language isn’t high-toned, 
but ” 

“ Your heart is high-toned, Mr. Darby,” said 
Natalie, recovering her own self-control. “ And 
now, what am I to pay you and your — your 
companion for your services? ” and she looked a 
little doubtfully at the shabby man, who had only 
opened his lips — and then to such good purpose — 
in the merchant’s office. 


IN BOSTON 


279 


“Oh, grunted Mr. Darby, suddenly 

made aware of the shabby man’s presence. “ He 
knows where to get his pay. Be off with you, 
now,” he added, to the strange man. “ We’ve 
got through with you, I hope.” 

“ Oh, is that fair, sir? ” asked Natalie, timidly, 
as the shabby man slunk away. 

“ Quite. He’s had his pay days ago.” 

“Then you have paid him?” said Natalie, 
quickly. 

“ All in the expense account. Miss. And it 
isn’t much. He works cheap. Nobody trusts him 
but me. And I know how to handle him. Why, 
if he could only keep straight he’d just waller in 
wealth ; but it’s a shame to give him money ” 

“ You have certainly been to much expense,” 
interrupted Natalie, firmly. “ I want to pay you 
for your trouble, and for that man’s work.” 

“ Very well. Miss,” said the detective, humbly. 
“ I don’t expect you’d take it as a free gift, like? ” 

“ Most certainly not, Mr. Darby,” said the 
young girl, yet smiling at him. “ Why, I feel 
rich with so much money.” 

“ Well,” said the young man, slowly, “ when 
you bank that check you send me your check for 
thirty-seven-forty. That’s the exact amount.” 

“Of expense money?” 

“ And my fee, too,” he declared, quickly. 


28 o 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


“ Really, it was a cinch, Miss Raymond. And 
then — the satisfaction of putting that nian in a 
hole — Why, Miss, I wouldn’t take a hundred 
dollars for the satisfaction, and that’s the truth I ” 

And that was every cent Natalie could make 
Mr. Darby accept. He hurried away, then, so 
that she could urge him no more, and the young 
girl took train for Burlingboro, feeling as though 
she could not get home quickly enough to tell the 
good news. 

But she took Mr. Darby’s hint and banked the 
check before turning her steps toward the Vesey 
Street cottage. When she reached this final goal 
she was amazed to be met by Laura, who ran 
hatless out of the house to meet her on the path. 

‘‘Who do you suppose is in the parlor?” she 
cried. 

“ I haven’t the least idea,” said the astonished 
older sister. 

“Your Mr. Van Weir. And isn^t he nice? 
And he’s sent for Mrs. Hackett. And he says he 
is going to take her to Boston this very night.” 

“To Boston? Take Mrs. Hackett to Bos- 
ton?” gasped the astounded Natalie. 

“ Oh ! and you’re to go to. It’s something 
about the magazine work, I s’pose, but he says he 
wants Mrs. Hackett for chaperon. What does 
it mean, Natalie? ” 


IN BOSTON 


281 


Boston ! The word thrilled Natalie strangely. 
Her thought flew to the letter from the hospital 
surgeon. She ran into the house and into the 
parlor — and shut Laura out, much to that young 
lady’s indignation. 

“ Mr. Van Weir! ” gasped Natalie. 

“ Steady, Miss Raymond,” said the big young 
man, meeting her quickly and seizing her hands. 

“ You have heard something? ” 

‘‘ I have. I read that letter again. A thought 
struck me. I called up Dr. Blodgett on the long 
distance. I asked him a question ” 

He halted in his speech, for Natalie wavered a 
little on her feet. But in a moment she recovered 
herself and looked at him with clear vision again. 

“Tell me, Mr. Van Weir,” she begged. “I 
can stand it.” 

“ I asked him if he had noticed the hands of 
the man he said was mentally deficient — the sea- 
man he said he had retained in the hospital as 
orderly.” 

“Yes?” 

“ And,” said Mr. Van Weir, slowly and im- 
pressively, “ Dr. Blodgett admitted that the man’s 
hands had puzzled him. They were not the hands 
of a man who labored — especially a seaman’s 
hands. / want you to go on to Boston with me 
and see that man!** 


282 THE OLDEST OF FOUR 

“ My father! ” gasped Natalie. 

In a moment she was in a chair and Mr. Van 
Weir was holding a glass of water to her lips. 

“ Hold on! hold on, Miss Natalie! ” he said, 
cheerfully. “ It’s a chance. That is all. And 
you’ve got to see your mother, and make your 
preparations for a journey at once. You need to 
pull yourself together, you know.” 

“ Oh, Mr. Van Weir! ” she ejaculated again. 

“ It’s sudden, I know,” he said, with a little 
chuckle. “ And we’ll have such sport with Mrs. 
Hackett. . . . Here she is now, God bless her ! ” 

The old Irish woman bustled in. 

“ An’ phat are yez doin’ to Miss Nat’lie now? ” 
she demanded. “ Pshaw ! git away wid that water, 
ye clumsy man — a spillin’ it all over her best bib 
and tucker ! Tell me what ye want Jenny Hackett 
for?” and she began patting Natalie’s hand and 
soothing her in a most motherly way. 

Mr. Van Weir went straight to the heart of his 
subject. And after Mrs. Hackett had first ex- 
pressed her amazement, she listened calmly and 
sensibly enough to his plan. 

Would she go with Miss Natalie to Boston? 
She’d go to the ends of the earth, she declared, 
although her idea of those same ends was rather 
vague. 

But she would go ! That was the main thing. 


IN BOSTON 


283 

Mr. Van Weir had engaged berths on the mid- 
night train out of the Grand Central Station. 
(There was a deal to do, for it was already dark. 

Natalie had to see her mother and — much 
against her will — she allowed Laura’s understand- 
ing of the emergency to stand. Mrs. Raymond 
and the three ^younger girls believed Natalie’s 
trip to Boston was connected with the magazine 
for which she worked. 

“ My brave girl ! ” said Mrs. Raymond, patting 
her oldest daughter’s shoulder. “ And how im- 
portant you are getting to those people you work 
for — and you little more than a child! 

“ Ah, dear 1 I wish I could get up and take your 
place in the household. But I am a poor, useless 
thing ” 

“Hush, hush. Mummy-kins!” commanded 
Natalie, striving to keep back the tears. “ Don’t 
say such things.” 

“ I am afraid nothing will ever bring me out 
of bed again and upon my feet. I haven’t the 
strength — I haven’t the ambition,” the poor 
woman complained. 

In her heart Natalie was wondering if there was 
a chance at last to bring about that which would 
surely arouse her mother. If this man at the hos- 
pital — 

She dared not let her mind linger on it. Had 


284 the oldest of FOUR 

it not been for the bustle and confusion of getting 
away she would have broken down herself. 

She told her mother and Laura nothing about 
the day’s great fortune; but she told Mr. Van 
Weir and insisted that he should keep a strict 
account of all the expenses, that she might settle 
with him at the end. 

Laura — who dearly loved company — prepared 
a delicious supper for them, and Mrs. Hackett 
came back, green bonnet, reticule, gloves and all, 
and insisted upon waiting ion the table, fully 
dressed as she was. 

They were off at last, making a good connection 
for the Boston train, and Natalie and Mrs. 
Hackett went to bed In their section, although 
that good lady shied considerably at first at the 
idea of “ slapin ’ on a pantry shelf.” 

Natalie was sure she would not be able to sleep, 
her thoughts ran riot so; but even before the train 
left the yards she was deep in slumber, and had 
but a hazy recollection of the entire ride. 

Mr. Van Weir had advised them to sleep as 
long as they could, even after the train’s arrival, 
for the porter would not awaken the lingering 
passengers until seven. But Natalie was astir and 
had made her toilet by six, and Mrs. Hackett was 
not far behind her. 

“ An’ do yez mean to tell me we have got clane 



THEY WERE OFF AT LAST 


Page 284, 









»?l:i 



ji* . jj: > #.>• ■ v. . **• 


' . A’ i. V 








IN BOSTON 


285 

to Boston — an’ me aslape?” she demanded of 
Natalie. “ Sure the brick houses and the loike 
do be lukin’ jest like N’York.” 

Mr. Van Weir did not hasten them. He 
pointed out the fact that it would be impossible 
to see Dr. Blodgett at the hospital before ten 
o’clock. But Natalie could barely control herself. 

The editor was a great help to her, however. 
Without bringing her into the conversation much, 
or thrusting himself upon her, he kept the girl 
interested in what he talked about, or amused her 
with his conversation with Mrs. Hackett. 

They went to breakfast at a Back Bay hotel and 
finally drove in a taxi to the hospital. The nearer 
they approached to the time and place of pos- 
sible meeting with the mysterious man whose 
case had brought them to Boston, Natalie’s hope 
withered. 

And perhaps it was as well. It did not seem 
possible that her father, unknown and unable to 
identify himself, had been here all this time — 
since the previous July — and was now to be re- 
stored to her. Her mind, after all, could not 
grasp the wonder. 

On arrival at the hospital Dr. Blodgett was 
expecting them and ushered them into his private 
office. He was a kindly man, and he showed him- 
self to be deeply interested in the case of the 


286 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


seaman from the Sakonnet, as he had been booked 
when brought to the institution. 

“ You know very well, Mr. Van Weir,” ex- 
plained the surgeon, “ that many times men who 
are not used to hard labor, but can merely pass the 
physical examination, take jobs as stokers on these 
steamships. We judged he was one of the firemen 
who was knocked out when they mutinied. 

“ The purser was here but a few moments, and 
he professed to know none of the three members 
of the crew. Naturally, he had little to do in his 
official capacity with either seamen or firemen. 
Mr. Bowley, the passenger, of course he knew. 

“ When this fellow recovered from the shock 
he had received I noticed that there was something 
seriously wrong with him at once. He appeared 
to have no memory. Yet he can read and write, 
and is helpful enough about the wards. He is by 
no means lacking in a certain quality of intelligence. 

“ But his mind is in a haze — that is sure. He 
knows nothing about himself. We got to calling 
him Robert, and that seems to be as familiar to 
him as any name he ever heard. He says so him- 
self. 

“ You see, there wasn’t a scrap of paper on him. 
He had no coat, only a jumper. Nothing at all 
in his pockets with which to trace his real identity. 

“ When the lump on his head went down — that 


IN BOSTON 


287 

bruise was as big as a goose-egg — there was no 
indentation in the skull. We cannot operate. If 
there is anything more the matter with his brain 
than ever has been the matter, it is because of the 
formation of a blood-clot. That clot may linger 
for years, or it may disappear suddenly.” 

“And what might bring about this suddea 
change in the man’s condition?” asked Mr. Van 
Weir, knowing that Natalie was listening eagerly. 

“Shock — either mental or physical. Another 
blow on the head might do it. That would be a 
dangerous experiment, however,” said the surgeon, 
smiling grimly. 

“ Better, a mental shock. I am not prepared 
to offer any surety that that would be beneficial, 
however. We can but try. If the young lady 
wishes to see the man and make sure ? ” 

“Oh, yes! oh, yes!” gasped Natalie, clasping 
her hands. 

The surgeon touched a bell and went on talking. 

“ These cases of loss of memory — we will not 
give them their hard names — are from many 
causes ; and they have been cured in as many differ- 
ent ways. In Robert’s condition we could not 
allow him to drift out into the world and be lost 
entirely, although he is physically able to take 
care of himself. 

“But he clings to us, here, too; he says he 


288 THE OLDEST OF FOUR 

realizes that we are the connecting link between 
his present existence and his old life. I fancy he 
has dreams of that old life that trouble him. He 
is on the verge, many times, I am sure, of bursting 
through the barrier between his present life and 
the old ” 

The door of the office opened hesitatingly and a 
man came shuffling in, in the list slippers of the 
hospital ward. 


CHAPTER XXIX 


BACK FROM THE LOST LAND 

He was not a fleshy man, and his hair was gray- 
ing fast, and was thin on top of his head. It 
seemed to have been shaved on a spot over his 
left temple, and in that place the hair was per- 
fectly white, giving his head a strangely piebald 
appearance. 

But there was a glow of health in the man’s 
cheeks and when he glanced around the room in 
a questioning manner, as he closed the door softly 
behind him, his gray-blue eyes seemed bright and 
intelligent enough. 

“ They said you wanted me. Doctor? ” he said, 
in a low voice. 

It was when he spoke that Natalie screamed. 
She staggered forward a step with both hands 
held out. Her eyes devoured the strangely chang- 
ing expression on the hospital orderly’s face. 

He stared at her. His hands went to his head, 
and he clasped them there as though the pulses in 
his temples were throbbing to the bursting point. 
And for a full minute he did not speak, nor seem 
to breathe, nor take his eyes from the girl. 

289 


290 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


“Father! Father!” called Natalie at last. 
“Father! ” 

“I — guess — that’s — my — Natalie,” gasped the 
man, jerkily. 

And then he would have reeled and fallen had 
not Dr. Blodgett and Mr. Van Weir both sprung 
to his aid and eased him down upon the surgeon’s 
couch. 

“ All right! All right! ’’exclaimed Dr. Blodgett, 
with suppressed excitement. “ It’s mere syncope. 
He’ll be back in a moment. You stand right there, 
young lady, where his eyes can rest upon you 
first.” 

Meanwhile he worked over the unconscious man 
skillfully. In five minutes Mr. Raymond’s eyelids 
fluttered, he uttered a long sigh, and opened his 
eyes wide again. 

“Your mother, child!” he gasped. “She — 
she ” 

“ We are all right — every one of us — Mother, 
Laura, Rose, Lucille, and I,” declared Natalie, 
and fell upon her knees by his side. 

“ How — how you’ve grown, Natalie,” he whis- 
pered, as she stroked his hand. 

His eyes wandered to Mrs. Hackett, and sud- 
denly he smiled. 

“ God bless me ! ” he said, with some animation. 
“ There’s Jenny Hackett.” 


BACK FROM THE LOST LAND 291 

“ Praise hivin I ” cried the good Irish woman. 
“ Did I iver hope to see this day, Mr. Frank.” 
But then, warned by a look from the doctor, she 
amended her speech by adding: “Sure, I niver 
seen ye lookin’ finer, Mr. Frank, niver in me whole 
loife! ” 

He gave her little attention, but was looking, 
with 'puzzled manner, at Van Weir and Dr. 
Blodgett. 

“ I do not seem to remember you gentlemen,” 
he whispered. “ Doctors, I presume?” 

“ Thete,” said Dr. Blodgett, smiling, “ he’s 
lost a friend already, you see. He and I have 
been quite chummy of late. Don’t you remember 
me, Robert?” 

Mr. Raymond’s eyes clouded a bit, and he shook 
his head. 

“It seems not,” he said. “Yet, perhaps I 
should remember you. But you have my name 
wrong, sir. It is Frank; not Robert.” 

“ There it is,” said the doctor, in a low tone to 
Van Weir. “ He may some time remember this 
part of his life in the hospital; but possibly not. 
Listen.” 

“ I seem to remember nothing after that trouble 
on the ship — Why, did the poor old Sakonnet 
sink after all? ” 

“ She did indeed,” said Dr. Blodgett, cheerfully. 


292 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


“ And those fellows began to fight. I remember. 
One fellow . . . Ha! he must have struck me 
with that bar.” 

“ A nasty blow,” said Dr. Blodgett. “ You 
knew nothing till they brought you ashore and 
we got you here in a hospital.” 

“ Ah — yes^ — a hospital, of course,” said Mr. 
Raymond. “And now I can go home? Of 
course, your mother is sadly worried, Natalie. 
But I remember sending my wallet and order- 
book to the firm by Mr. Middler. Do you suppose 
he and his wife were lucky enough to be saved? ” 

“ Oh, father, that wallet was delivered to Favor 
& Murch long ago,” said Natalie before Dr. 
Blodgett could stop her. 

“ Long ago? Have I been in the hospital 
long?” he gasped. 

“ And we shall keep you a bit longer, old man,” 
said Dr. Blodgett, cheerfully, but firmly, and 
approaching with a sedative. “ Drink this; then 
go to sleep; and this young lady can see and talk 
with you later.” 

He hustled them all out of the room then and 
turned his office for the time being into a private 
ward. While Mr. Raymond slept they made their 
plans for the immediate future. 

Dr. Blodgett would not hear of the patient 
being removed immediately. Mr. Van Weir had 


BACK FROM THE LOST LAND 293 

to return to New York at once; but Mrs. Hackett 
quickly agreed to stay with Natalie for a time, at 
least. 

A room was obtained for the good woman and 
Natalie in the neighborhood, and Dr. Blodgett 
assured the girl that she should be with her father, 
and help to cure him, every day. 

But this state of observation under the sur- 
geon’s eye did not last for long. Dr. Blodgett 
merely wished to be sure that the sudden shock 
of coming back to his own old mind and iden- 
tity had not shaken Mr. Raymond physically, as 
well. 

Gradually Mr. Raymond came to realize the 
time that had elapsed since his injury aboard the 
sinking steamer. He recalled the incidents of that 
time very clearly, and remembered Mr. Middler, 
Mr. Orton, and his little girl — all the incidents, 
in fact, that had so slowly come to Natalie’s 
knowledge through the weary months since the 
time of the wreck. 

Now, Natalie knew, she had never believed her 
father lost at sea. She had been urged forward 
in her quest, all the time, by some inexplicable 
feeling that the plain and naturally “ sensible ” 
explanation of his disappearance was not the 
right one. 

“ I felt you must be somewhere waiting for me, 


294 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


Father ! ” she cried, with her head on his shoulder. 
“ It — it’s what has kept me up, many a time, 
when it looked as though I couldn’t go a step 
farther.” 

He had heard much of her story now. And 
he was proud of his daughter — ^his “ oldest of 
four.” 

And what man would not have been proud to 
have such a daughter ? She had been faithful, she 
had worked hard, and aside from the helping 
hands held out to her — notably Pete Darby’s — > 
Natalie had succeeded in many, many tasks she 
had undertaken. 

“And a ^writer!” Mr. Raymond marveled. 
“ I knew you had the talent, Natalie. But for a 
girl like you to earn twenty dollars a week on a 
magazine . . . Why, it is really wonderful. 

And the stories ! ” 

“ I don’t know that I am a success as a story 
writer,” interposed Natalie, wincing at the thought 
of the non-success of her book. “ But I guess I 
have talent enough for hack-work on a maga- 
. zine.” 

Mrs. Hackett went home after a day or two, 
being instructed to carry no news of Mr. Ray- 
mond’s discovery to the family; but to let them 
think that it was business still that kept Natalie 
away. 


BACK FROM THE LOST LAND 295 

At the end of ten days, however, Dr. Blodgett 
was willing for the patient to leave the hospital. 
Nor did Mr. Raymond look much like a sick man. 
Only, he had aged in appearance by many years, 
and it grieved Natalie to see it. 


CRATER XXX 


A FORECAST 

Mr. Raymond went to Mrs. Hackett’s when 
they arrived in Burlingboro. Her little tenement 
was right behind the Raymond cottage, on the back 
street. It was Natalie who had to break the news 
to Mrs. Raymond that the lost one was found. 

But by Dr. Blodgett’s advice the girl called 
in Dr. Protest, their family physician, letting him 
into the secret, and when he had expressed his 
delighted surprise he repeated what he had said 
months before, when first trouble had come upon 
the Raymond family and Mrs. Raymond had taken 
to her bed : 

“ I never yet knew a case where joy killed! ” 

It was evening, however, and Mrs. Raymond 
expressed some surprise that the physician should 
have called so late in the day. 

“ Wanted to see just how you were getting on, 
Mrs. Raymond,” said Dr. Protest, cheerfully. 
“ I might be called away to-morrow, and haven’t 
seen you for nearly a week, you know. 

“ Ah — ha ! Famous I I believe you will get 

296 


A FORECAST 


297 

up on your feet shortly. You need a tonic of a 
kind that I cannot prescribe for you.’’ 

“What is that, Doctor?” asked the invalid, 
wearily. 

“ Some shock — some joyful surprise. Some- 
thing to lift you out of yourself, my dear woman. 
And I believe our smart Natalie, here, who does 
so much, can arrange even that,^ he added, sig- 
nificantly. 

“ The dear child does all she can,” said Mrs. 
Raymond; but the doctor tiptoed out of the room 
and sent one of Mrs. Hackett’s youngsters flying 
across the yards for Mr. Raymond. 

The three younger Raymond girls were already 
with their recovered father at the neighbor’s house ; 
they trooped back with him, but were warned 
to remain downstairs and keep as quiet as mice. 
Mr. Raymond went softly up to his wife’s room 
and Natalie met him. 

She was in tears, but she smiled at him happily. 

“ She is waiting for you. Father,” she whispered; 
“ but she is asleep. I did not tell her you- were so 
near, but that you were coming home. You can 
slip in there and sit by her if you will promise to 
be — a — very— good — boy ! ” the last words being 
punctuated by kisses. 

“ My brave little daughter,” he replied, return- 
ing the kiss. “ Father is proud of you.” 


298 THE OLDEST OF FOUR 

Then he opened the door softly and tiptoed in. 
She saw him slip into the chair by the bedside and 
bend over the fair, if somewhat worn, face upon 
the pillow. 

And then the tears flooded Natalie’s eyes and 
blinded her; and she closed the door. 

Dr. Protest was quite right. Joy is not a shock 
that kills. In Mrs. Raymond’s case, the joyful 
reappearance of her husband seemed to be just 
what the invalid needed. 

From the hour she awoke and found her hand 
resting in her husband’s warm palm she began to 
mend, and it was not many months before she had 
regained all she had lost in health, and was on the 
road to complete recovery. 

But this was in the future. Right at this time, 
in addition to her father’s home-coming, Natalie 
experienced another — and to her mind — a most 
astonishing and unexpected piece of good fortune. 

She had been so busy the day she returned and 
the next forenoon that she had no time to even 
think of her department work — and it was press- 
ing. Her absence in Boston had set her back 
nearly a week on the magazine writing. 

So she warned the children to keep away from 
her room, went in and locked her door, and un- 
covered her typewriter. And as she prepared to 


A FORECAST 


299 

sit down to it she saw a letter lying on her table — 
a letter that had not been opened. 

She picked it up curiously, saw idly the name 
of a publishing firm printed in the corner of the 
envelope, and even then did not dream what the 
letter might contain. It had evidently lain here 
several days, and Laura had forgotten to tell her 
about it. 

She slit the flap of the envelope, drew out the 
brief letter, and read it almost at a glance. Yet, 
those few brief lines spelled Success for Natalie 
Raymond ! 

“ Her Way Out ” had been read and approved 
by the readers of the publishing house. The 
writer even mentioned the fact that there was a 
freshness and originality about the manuscript 
which gave him great confidence in its ultimate 
success. 

He mentioned the fact that the house would be 
glad to issue it in the fall, and asked her to call 
and sign a contract, offering a substantial sum as 
advance royalties. 

She was really a success as a writer ! Her name 
would appear upon the title page of a real book. 

With the letter in her hand, Natalie sat and 
dreamed a little. And who had a better right? 

Perhaps, in time, she might become as well 
known in her chosen field of literature as Miss 


300 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


Jarrold. She was capable of doing something 
better than hack-work on the magazine. 

It was a satisfaction ! The glow that she had 
felt while she wrote the first of “ Her Way Out” 
returned to her. She felt suddenly as though, 
now that everything was running so smoothly 
again, she might try another book. Already the 
dim, glimmering outline of a plot was forming In 
her active mind. 

Her worries for the future were mainly past. 
They had money in the bank, thanks to that odd 
Pete Darby. Rough as that young man was 
on the surface, he had been a good friend to 
Natalie. 

And she had made and held other friends during 
her long campaign of Independence. How kind 
Mr. Kester had been to her — and the girls in the 
store where she had worked. 

And Mr. Franklin, the editor of the Banner — 
why, if he had not so encouraged her and felt 
such confidence In her ultimate success, she might 
never have completed “ Her Way Out.” 

And good Mrs. Hackett! The cheeriest and 
most helpful body In the world. And — as Mr. 
Van Weir declared — the “ finest chaperon in the 
business I ” 

She smiled when she thought of Harvey Van 
Weir. And for a little her mind ran upon the 


A FORECAST 


301 

many helpful and kindly acts the editor of Our 
Twentieth Century Home had done for her. 

It was really he who had brought about her 
father’s home-coming. His thought, when he had 
read Dr. Blodgett’s letter a second time, had been 
the clue to the whole mystery of the lost man. 

And he was so splendid! So cheerful, and — 
and — yes 1 — handsome 

Natalie sprang up with her cheeks in a sudden 
glow and ran into her mother’s room to tell the 
good news of the accepted book. Just to think — 
she, a girl of less than seventeen, having a real 
book accepted for publication! 

Of course her parents were doubly proud of 
her. And Laura thought it was the finest thing 
that ever had happened. 

“ That cat, Estelle Mayberry, won’t have any- 
thing to say about you now, I guess,” said the 
outspoken Laura. She’s been talking about us 
a good bit, I hear; but this will shut her up, I 
hope.” 

“ Oh, dear, we won’t mind about gossip any 
more,” said Natalie, mildly. 

Even the “ charity frocks ” seemed a small cross 
to Natalie Raymond now. 

Laura flew over to tell Jim and soon old Mose 
pushed the crippled youth into the Raymonds’ 
yard in his wheel-chair. 


302 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


“ Just the bulliest thing that ever happened, 
Nat! I knew it was in you,” declared young 
Hurley. 

“ Everything is turning out splendidly, Jim,” 
she told him, giving him her hand. “ And you and 
your mother are not the least of our friends deserv- 
ing of our gratitude,” she added, softly. 

“ Oh, now, Natalie 1 don’t you say a word about 
that,” said Jim, and he hobbled off on his crutches 
to find Laura. 

Natalie had been glad to notice that, for some 
time, Jim and Laura had become much better 
chums than ever she and Jim had been. And that 
was as it should be, for the cripple perhaps found 
it hard at times to be cheerful, and Laura’s exu- 
berant spirits were helpful to him. 

Natalie took her publisher’s letter to Mr. 
Franklin before she went to the city that week, and 
the Banner editor was just as delighted with her 
good fortune as Natalie knew he would be. 

“ What did I say? What did I say? ” demanded 
the old gentleman, over and over again. “ And 
you hit the second house you tried 1 Why, child, 
you are a genius — ^you’ll make your mark. 

“But I claim some credit. I am your literary 
godfather — remember that.” 

“ I shall never forget your encouragement and 
help, dear Mr. Franklin,” she assured him. 


A FORECAST 


303 


But it was with Harvey Van Weir that she 
discussed the details of the contract the publishers 
offered, and that young man, well-versed in liter- 
ary matters, advised her well. And he was 
enthusiastic, too. 

“ I told ’em you were a find. Miss Natalie,’^ 
he said, with his boyish laugh. “ Of course, we 
editors always pride ourselves on our literary 
finds; you will be, I am sure, the very brightest 
star in my crown.” 

“ You praise me too much, Mr. Van Weir. 
You’ll make me too conceited to live,” laughed 
Natalie. 

Yet secretly his praise pleased her more than 
any other person’s commendation. 

Mr. Van Weir insisted upon a little luncheon in 
clebration of her good fortune and they talked 
long over the table in the corner of the quiet 
restaurant which they both liked so well be- 
cause of its associations. This was the place 
where they had first lunched with the “ borrowed 
chaperon.” 

He prophesied great things in literature for 
Natalie that day. He saw her book already a 
success, and made her see it, too. They even 
discussed the new plot Natalie was hazily evolving 
for a second long story. 

Oh, yes ! that young man Van Weir was a splen- 


304 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


did prophet. He said he was inspired that day 
and could look into the future like any seer ! 

But there was one prophecy he did not make. 
Perhaps Harvey Van Weir saw its culmination 
quite as clearly as he did the results of Natalie’s 
future literary work, but he was too wise to speak 
of it just at this time. 

He saw a second desk in his big office at which 
his first assistant would sit and help him in the 
more intimate work of editing the magazine; and 
this assistant looked strangely (to his mind’s eye) 
like Natalie Raymond — only a Natalie grown 
some years older — and even prettier. 

But, dearer yet would be the tie between the 
two — a tie that would be lasting, in Harvey Van 
Weir’s determination. 

And Harvey Van Weir was a very determined 
young man. 


THE END 


SOMETHING ABOUT 

AMY BELL MARLOWE 

AND HER BOOKS FOR GIRLS 

In these days, when the printing presses are 
turning out so many books for girls that are good, 
bad and indifferent, it is refreshing to come upon 
the works of such a gifted authoress as Miss Amy 
Bell Marlowe, who is now under contract to write 
exclusively for Messrs. Grosset & Dunlap. 

In many ways Miss Marlowe’s books may be 
compared with those of Miss Alcott and Mrs. 
Meade, but all are thoroughly modern and wholly 
American in scene and action. Her plots, while 
never improbable, are exceedingly clever, and her 
girlish characters are as natural as they are inter- 
esting. 

On the following pages will be found a list 
of Miss Marlowe’s books. Every girl in our 
land ought to read these fresh and wholesome 
tales. They are to be found at all booksellers. 
Each volume is handsomely illustrated and bound 
in cloth, stamped in colors. Published by Grosset 
& Dunlap, New York. A free catalogue of Miss 
Marlowe’s books may be had for the asking. 


THE OLDEST OF FOUR 


“ I don't see any way out ! ” 

It was Natalie's mother who said that, after 
the awful news had been received that Mr. Ray- 
mond had been lost in a shipwreck on the Atlantic. 
Natalie was the oldest of four children, and the 
family was left with but scant means for support. 

“ I’ve got to do something — yes. I’ve just got 
to ! ” Natalie said to herself, and what the brave 
girl did is well related in “The Oldest of Four; 
Or, Natalie’s Way Out.” In this volume we 
find Natalie with a strong desire to become a 
writer. At first she contributes to a local paper, 
but soon she aspires to larger things, and comes 
in contact with the editor of a popular magazine. 
This man becomes her warm friend, and not only 
aids her in a literary way but also helps in a hunt 
for the missing Mr. Raymond. 

Natalie has many ups and downs, and has to 
face more than one bitter disappointment. But 
she is a plucky girl through and through. 

“ One of the brightest girls’ stories ever 
penned,” one well-known author has said of this 
book, and we agree with him. Natalie is a 
thoroughly lovable character, and one long to be 
remembered. Published as are all the Amy Bell 
Marlowe books, by Grosset & Dunlap, New 
York, and for sale by all booksellers. Ask your 
dealer to let you look the volume over. 


THE GIRLS OF HILLCREST FARM 


“ WeTl go to the old farm, and we’ll take 
boarders! We can fix the old place up, and, 
maybe, make money! ” 

The father of the two girls was broken down 
in health and a physician had recommended that 
he go to the country, where he could get plenty 
of fresh air and sunshine. An aunt owned an 
abandoned farm and she said the family could 
live on this and use the place as they pleased. 
It was great sport moving and getting settled, 
and the boarders offered one surprise after an- 
other. There was a mystery about the old farm, 
and a mystery concerning one of the boarders, 
and how the girls got to the bottom of affairs 
is told in detail in the story, which is called, “ The 
Girls of Hillcrest Farm; Or, The Secret of the 
Rocks.” 

It was great fun to move to the farm, and once 
the girls had the scare of their lives. And they 
attended a great ” vendue ” too. 

“ I just had to write that story — I couldn’t help 
it,” said Miss Marlov/e, when she handed in the 
manuscript. “ I knew just such a farm when I 
was a little girl, and oh! what fun I had there! 
And there was a mystery about that place, too I ” 

Published, like all the Marlowe books, by 
Grosset & Dunlap, New York, and for sale wher- 
ever good books are sold. 

3 


A LITTLE MISS NOBODY 


“ Oh, she’s only a little nobody ! Don’t have 
anything to do with her ! ” 

How often poor Nancy Nelson heard those 
words, and how they cut her to the heart. And 
the saying was true, she was a nobody. She had 
no folks, and she did not know where she had 
come from. All she did know was that she was 
at a boarding school and that a lawyer paid her 
tuition bills and gave her a mite of spending 
money. 

“ I am going to find out who I am, and where 
I came from,” said Nancy to herself, one day, 
and what she did, and how it all ended, is ab- 
sorbingly related in “A Little Miss Nobody; 
Or, With the Girls of Pinewood Hall.” Nancy 
made a warm friend of a poor office boy who 
worked for that lawyer, and this boy kept his 
eyes and ears open and learned many things. 

The book tells much about boarding school 
life, of study and fun mixed, and of a great race 
on skates. Nancy made some friends as well as 
enemies, and on more than one occasion proved 
that she was “ true blue ” in the best meaning 
of that term. 

Published by Grosset & Dunlap, New York, 
and for sale by booksellers everywhere. If you 
desire a catalogue of Amy Bell Marlowe books 
send to the publishers for it and it will come free. 

4 


THE GIRL FROM SUNSET RANCH 


Helen was very thoughtful as she rode along 
the trail from Sunset Ranch to the View. She 
had lost her father but a month before, and 
he had passed away with a stain on his name — 
a stain of many years’ standing, as the girl had just 
found out. 

“ I am going to New York and I am going to 
clear his name I ” she resolved, and just then she 
saw a young man dashing along, close to the edge 
of a cliff. Over he went, and Helen, with no 
thought of the danger to herself, went to the 
rescue. 

Then the brave Western girl found herself set 
down at the Grand Central Terminal in New 
York City. She knew not which way to go or 
what to do. Her relatives, who thought she was 
poor and ignorant, had refused to even meet her. 
She had to fight her way along from the start, 
and how she did this, and won out, is well related 
in “The Girl from Sunset Ranch; Or, Alone in 
a Great City.” 

This is one of the finest of Amy Bell Marlowe’s 
books, with its true-to-life scenes of the plains 
and mountains, and of the great metropolis. 
Helen is a girl all readers will love from the 
start. 

Published by Grosset & Dunlap, New York, 
and for sale by booksellers everywhere. 

5 


WYN’S CAMPING DAYS 


“ Oh, girls, such news! ’’ cried Wynifred Mal- 
lory to her chums, one day. “ We can go camp- 
ing on Lake Honotonka 1 Isn’t it grand 1 ” 

It certainly was, and the members of the Go- 
Ahead Club were delighted. Soon they set off, 
with their boy friends to keep them company in 
another camp not far away. Those boys played 
numerous tricks on the girls, and the girls re- 
taliated, you may be sure. And then Wyn did 
a strange girl a favor, and learned how some 
ancient statues of rare value had been lost in the 
lake, and how the girl’s father was accused of 
stealing them. 

“We must do all we can for that girl,” said 
Wyn. But this was not so easy, for the girl 
campers had many troubles of their own. They 
had canoe races, and one of them fell overboard 
and came close to drowning, and then came a big 
storm, and a nearby tree was struck by lightning. 

“ I used to love to go camping when a girl, and 
I love to go yet,” said Miss Marlowe, in speaking 
of this tale, which is called, “ Wyn’s Camping 
Days; Or, The Outing of the Go-Ahead Club.” 
“ I think all girls ought to know the pleasures of 
summer life under canvas.” 

A book that ought to be in the hands of all 
girls. Issued by Grosset & Dunlap, New York, 
and for sale by booksellers everywhere. 

6 


THE OUTDOOR GIRLS SERIES 

By LAURA LEE HOPE 


AUTHOR OF THE EVER POPULAR “BOBBSEY TWINS BOOKS*' 


12ino. CLOTH ILLUSTRATED PRICE PER VOLUME 40 CEriTS. POSTPAID 


These tales take in the various adventures participated in 
by several bright, up-to-date girls who love outdoor life. They 
are clean and wholesome, free from sensationalism, absorbing 
from the first chapter to the last. 

THE OUTDOOR GIRLS OF DEEPDALE 
Or Camping and Tramping for Fun and Health. 

Telling how the girls organized their Camping and Tramping Club, 
how they went on a tour, and of various adventures which befell them. 

THE OUTDOOR GIRLS AT RAINBOW LAKE 
Or Stirring Cruise of the Motor Boat Gem. 

One of the girls becomes the proud possessor of a motor boat and 
at once invites her club members to take a trip with her down the 
river to Rainbow Lake, a beautiful sheet of water lying between the 
mountains. 

THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN A MOTOR CAR 
Or The Haunted Mansion of Shadow Valley. 

One of the girls has learned to run a big motor car, and she invites 
the club to go on a tour with her, to visit some distant relatives. On 
the way they stop at a deserted mansion, said to be haunted and make 
a most surprising discovery. 

THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN A WINTER CAMP 
Or Glorious Days on Skates and Ice Boats. 

In this story, the scene is shifted to a winter season. The girls 
have some jolly times skating and ice boating, and visit a hunters 
camp in the big woods. 

THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN FLORIDA 
Or Wintering in the Sunny South. 

The parents of one of the girls have bought an orange grove in 
Florida, and her companions are invited to visit the place. They do 
so, and take a trip into the wilds of the interior, where several unusual 
things happen. 


Grosset & Dunlap, 526 West 26th St., New York 


THE GIRLS OF CENTRAL 
HIGH SERIES 

By GERTRUDE W. MORRISON 


12mo CLOTH, ILLUSTRATED. PRICE PER VOLUME 40 CENTS, POSTPAID 


Here is a series full of the spirit of high school life of 
to-day. The girls are real flesh-and-blood characters, and we 
follow them with interest in school and out. There are many 
contested matches on track ana field, and on the water, as well as 
doings in the classroom and on the school stage. There is 
plenty of fun and excitement, all clean, pure and wholesome. 

THE GIRLS OF CENTRAL HIGH 
Or Rivals for all Honors. 

A stirring tale of high school life, full of fun, with a touch of 
mystery and a strange initiation. 

THE GIRLS OF CENTRAL HIGH ON LAKE LUNA 
Or The Crew That Won. 

Telling of water sports and fun galore, and of fine times in camp, 

THE GIRLS OF CENTRAL HIGH AT BASKETBALL 
Or The Great Gymnasium Mystery. 

Here we have a number of thrilling contests at basketball and in 
addition, the solving of a mystery which had bothered the high school 
authorities for a long while. 

THE GIRLS OF CENTRAL HIGH ON THE STAGE 
Or The Play That Took the Prize. 

How the girls went in for theatricals and how one of them wrote 
a play which afterward was made over for the professional stage and 
brought in some much-needed money. 

THE GIRLS OF CENTRAL HIGH ON TRACK AND FIELD 
Or The Girl Champions of the School League. 

This story takes in high school athletics in their most approved 
and up-to-date fashion. E'ull of fun and excitement. 


Grosset & Dunlap, 526 West 26th St., New York 


THE MOVING PICTURE GIRLS 
SERIES 

By LAURA LEE HOPE 


AUTHOR 

OF “THE 

BOBBSEY TWINS SERIES.” 

12ino CLOTH. 

ILLUSTRATED. 

PRICE PER VOLUME 40 CENTS, POSTPAID 


The adventures of Ruth and Alice DeVere. Their father, 
a widower, is an actor who has taken up work for the “movies.” 
Both girls wish to aid him in his work. At first, they do work 
in “parlor dramas” only, but later on, visit various localities to 
act in all sorts of pictures. 

THE MOVING PICTURE GIRLS 
Or First Appearance in Photo Dramas. 

Having lost his voice, the father of the mrls goes into the movies 
and the girls follow. Tells how many “ parlor dramas” are filmed. 

THE MOVING PICTURE GIRLS AT OAK FARM ' 

Or Queer Happenings While Taking Rural Plays. 

Full of fun in the country, the haps and mishaps of taking film 
plays, and giving an account of two unusual discoveries. 

THE MOVING PICTURE GIRLS SNOWBOUND 
Or The Proof on the Film. 

A tale of winter adventures in the wilderness, showing how the 
photo-play actors sometimes suffer. The proof on the film was most 
convincing. 

THE MOVING PICTURE GIRLS UNDER THE PALMS 
Or Lost in the Wilds of Florida. 

How they went to the land of palms, played many parts in dramas 
before the clicking machine, and w’ere lost and aided others who were 
also lost. 

TPIE MOVING PICTURE GIRLS AT ROCKY RANCH 
Or Great Days Among the Cowboys. 

All who have ever seen moving pictures of the great West will 
want to know just how they are made. This volume gives every detail 
and is full of clean fun and excitement. 


Grosset & Dunlap, 526 West 26th St., New York 


THE BOBBSEY TWINS BOOKS 

For Little Men and Women 
By LAURA LEE HOPE 

AUTHOR OF “THE OUTDOOR GIRLS SERIES” 


12mo. CLOTH ILLUSTRATED PRICE PER VOLUME 40 CENTS. POSTPAID 


Copyright publications which cannot be obtained elsewhere. 
Books that charm the hearts of the little ones, and of which they 
never tire. Many of the adventures are comical in the extreme, and 
all the accidents that ordinarily happen to youthful personages hap- 
pened to these many-sided little mortals. Their haps and mishaps 
make decidedly entertaining reading. 

THE BOBBSEY TWINS. 

THE BOBBSEY TWINS IN THE COUNTRY. 

THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT THE SEASHORE. 

The demand for this series has been so great that the author has 
yielded to many requests and has added two volumes as follows; 

THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT SCHOOL. 

Telling how they got home from the seashore; went to school and 
were promoted, and of their many trials and tribulations. 

THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT SNOW LODGE. 

Telling of the winter holidays, and of the many fine times and 
adventures the twins had at a winter lodge in the big woods. 


THE DOROTHY CHESTER SERIES 

By EVELYN RAYMOND 


12mo. CLOTH ILLUSTRATED PRICE PER VOLUME 60 CEHTS. POSTPAID 


Two companion stories for American ^rls, by one of the most 
popular writers of fiction for girls’ reading. They are bright, winsome 
and thoroughly wholesome stories. 

DOROTHY CHESTER. The Haps and Mishaps of a Foundling. 

The first volume tells how Dorothy was found on the doorstep, 
taken in, and how she grew to be a lovable girl of twelve; and was 
then carried off by a person who held her for ransom. She made a 
warm friend of Jim, the nobody; and the adventures of the pair are 
as interesting as they are surprising. 

DOROTHY CHESTER AT SKYRIE. 

Shows Dorothy at her country home near the Highlands of the 
Hudson. Here astonishing adventures befell her, and once again 
Jim, the nobody, comes to her assistance. 


Grosset & Dunlap, 526 West 26th St. , New York 





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